Terrestrial Constellations
by NightOwl360
Summary: For Jane and Darcy bringing Thor back to Earth is only the beginning of the adventure. Relationships are never easy, the past is always just a step behind, and sometimes the people we know best have the biggest secrets. Thor/Jane, Darcy/Fandral.
1. Let's Start Things Off with a Bang!

**Chapter 1**: Let's Start Things Off with a Bang!

* * *

><p>"Oh man! Oh man oh man oh man!"<p>

She heard the voice, though it sounded strange and distant over the vicious throbbing in her head. Darcy's inflection, which never seemed to rise more than a few octaves above a sleepy monotone, sounded high and panicked. The last time she'd sounded like that, Jane thought, they had been driving straight into a mysterious storm.

"Please don't be hurt bad, okay? Oh shit, oh shit! She's bleeding! She's bleeding a lot, would you _do_ something already!"

"Head wounds always bleed like that." Another voice, less familiar and less comforting than the squeaky falsetto of her assistant, came with the terrifying feeling of being moved. Light seared her vision suddenly, disorienting her as she made a failing attempt to understand what was happening around her. "She's lucky she didn't get worse than a little cut."

"Little? _Little?_" Darcy squealed, sending shocks of pain across through Jane's skull. "Look at her face! She looks like a victim from _Halloween_! Oh man, Thor is going to be so seriously _pissed_ about this."

Thor.

The portal… the portal had worked, had opened, and she had _seen_ him. For a moment, she was certain she had looked right into his eyes, and then something had happened, something had gone drastically wrong.

Awareness began to cut through the pain and Jane struggled to be able to piece together what was happening around her. She was aware that she was lying on her back, and suspected strongly that her head might be resting on someone's lap. Something was prodding her shoulder, sending shockwaves of pain and nausea straight through her.

"Looks dislocated," the unfamiliar voice, possibly a medic, muttered over her.

"I'm doomed. Thor's going to kill me for this, I just know it." Darcy moaned,

"Let's get this shoulder set, hold her… like that, yeah."

"Sure, why not? It's not like he can kill me twice."

Searing white-hot pain exploded through her body and she struggled instinctively away from it. Her previous nausea returned with great force as she fought the hands that held her down. Time seemed to stop, trapping her in the storm of pain and sickness and confining hands until oblivion finally consumed her.

It was mercifully quiet when her mind surfaced once more. She had a sense of pain artificially dulled by medication, and the irritating pull of adhesive on her forehead. She heard Darcy murmur something intelligible from somewhere nearby, and Jane was grateful that her assistant's voice had returned to its normal tones again.

The sight of Darcy looming wide eyed and anxious over her was what greeted her tired eyes when managed to force them open. The younger woman's face was scraped, smoke-smudged, and tear-tracked. Her dark hair was a tangled mess around her shoulders, her jacket had a jagged rip at the sleeve and her hat was missing entirely.

"Are you okay?" Jane asked, alarm rushing over her. She wasn't sure what had happened, yet, but it had obviously been very bad. The air was foul with the acrid scent of burning plastic, and Jane's own injuries were not trifling.

"Alive." Darcy laughed, lifting a begrimed hand to smear she soot impossibly over her face, "Bruised. Sore. I'm a lot better off that you are. You seriously freaked me out, Jane. I thought you were dead."

A fresh batch of tears glimmered in her eyes and Jane reached over carefully to squeeze Darcy's hand. "I'm okay, I'm fine."

Different as they were, she and Darcy had forged a strong bond in the wake of Thor's departure. While she wouldn't go so far as to say that Darcy really understood her (or she Darcy), the astrophysicist would say that the younger girl was her closest friend. It was a friendship that she had come to value as pressure from S.H.I.E.L.D increased.

Jane repressed the urge to sit up, suspecting strongly that it would not be a good idea just at the moment. It wouldn't do her any good anyway, seeing as the medical bay was nowhere near the Portal Hangar. She wanted badly to know what had happened, and how much they would have to rebuild.

But it had worked. For a moment, the portal had _worked_.

"I saw him." She murmured, looking up at Darcy.

"I did too." was the reply, "I think… he might have seen us but, you know, things started catching fire and exploding. So I'm not really sure."

"Do you know- can you tell me what happened? I don't… it's fuzzy."

Darcy gave her a quick grin, "Fuzzy my ass. You were too into tall, blond, and ripped to pay attention to anything else. It happened _really_ fast, Jane. It's like, the Stargate opened, and then one of the geek squad starts yelling because his computer is sparking and smoking and… then… I don't really understand _what_ happened, but something outside the control room just went _boom_."

Jane closed her eyes, trying to bring her memories into focus. She recalled, with painful clarity, the Portal opening and the sight of Thor striding toward them. Someone had shouted, she remembered now, and she had turned and she had seen the smoking computer. After that it had been lights out.

"The control room door flew open and they think that's what dislocated your shoulder, that you caught the edge of it as it came inward. You were, like, thrown into me, and there was fire everywhere and everyone was yelling and you were… you were bleeding, like, all over me."

"Sorry." Jane murmured apologetically. "I don't even remember the explosion just… waking up and hearing you."

"Yeah, well, you're lucky you don't remember. Freakiest thing I've ever seen. It was like being in a Matrix movie, you know, and everyone is flying around and crashing into the wall and the fire is whooshing in over us, but it's all happening in slow motion. Anyway, you'll be glad to know that the Stargate is fine, no damage from the fireball."

"Don't call it that." Jane winced, despite her portal's uncanny resemblance to such.

Darcy made a face at her and grinned, "I did hear someone say that Stark was flying in to analyze what happened."

Jane sighed, closing her eyes as she contemplated that fact. While she worked closely with S.H.I.E.L.D, her research was actually being funded by STARK Enterprise. She had few complaints about it so far, her work had made incredible leaps with the funding, equipment, and manpower Stark had provided.

Her salary wasn't anything to sneeze at either. Not only had she been able to move out of her cramped little camp trailer, but she had completely furnished her new house in a very short amount of time. Darcy had benefitted greatly too, finding herself in a paid position as Jane's assistant, and with a full college scholarship.

Stark himself, though rarely on site in person, had been instrumental in the Portal's design and construction. Taking her calculations and ideas and refining them almost to perfection, it was only with his help that they had been able to start testing her theory so quickly. She respected his brilliance, and had no doubt that he would be able to quickly pinpoint what had happened and why.

But that wasn't the reason he was coming to New Mexico.

In the two years since Thor's return to Asgard, they had been plagued with a series of strange events. Equipment had been tampered with, moved, broken. Key cards had been re-coded or erased entirely, and an entire vehicle had disappeared for three days.

Two weeks ago all the wires in the Portal's mainframe had been detached and the panel replaced. Three months prior, the freezer in the mess hall had been mysteriously disconnected and all the food inside it grotesquely spoiled.

Up until now all the incident had been annoying and inconvenient, but relatively harmless. The staff generally thought that it was only a series of immature but extremely well done practical jokes. Jane had begun to worry, though, as the pranks seemed to slowly escalate as time progressed.

It wasn't until the Portal's first test run that she had really seen what was happening in a clear light. An essential wire had vanished out of the Portal's main computer terminal and had stalled the machine's first boot up cold for nearly six hours while the tech squad had rooted out the problem.

Jane had stood in the control room with Stark and Darcy, discussing the bizarre events and security's inability to uncover the prankster. During a momentary lull in the conversation, it had been Darcy to give voice to a small niggling thought that Jane herself had only just begun to examine as she had said,

"It's almost like someone's trying to stall Thor's return. Like they don't think they can really stop it, but they're trying to hold it off for as long as they can. Slow things up, keep everyone on edge."

It was a chilling thought.

The fact that the prankster had drawn blood today, the day they had fired up the Portal at full power, had only seemed to cement Darcy's words into hard fact. The pranks were deliberate attempts to stall or prevent Thor's return to earth.

That was why Iron Man was coming to New Mexico.

Iron Man was coming because this person, whoever he or she was, had not _just _drawnblood. He had drawn Jane's blood; the blood of the woman that Thor had almost given his life to protect. Perhaps it had been just a coincidence that Jane had been grazed by the door when it had blown open, but she doubted it.

Anyone who was at the test openings knew that Jane always stood close to the door so that if and when they were able to bring Thor through, she would be the first out to greet him. There was no way it wasn't deliberate and Tony, rather like Agent Coulson, seemed to have some concern for what the blond giant might do if he returned only to discover that Jane had been killed mysteriously.

Today's events also meant that she would have S.H.I.E.L.D agents loitering outside her house and indiscreetly shadowing her, as they had done for nearly six months after the truck had vanished. That really sucked.

"Was anyone else hurt?" She finally asked, and felt a little guilty that she hadn't thought of is sooner.

"You were the worst, I think, because you were so near the door but there was one guy, I don't know his name, he got burned some. I don't think it was that bad. It could have been a lot worse, I guess."

"It was bad enough. Ugh, this will put us back weeks, maybe months."

"Your arm will have time to heal, at least. Doc Gantz says that you'll have to keep it really still for at least a week, and then he'll give you a checkup and talk about physical therapy."

"Great. Just great. That's just what I needed." She sighed, moving her good arm up to gingerly poke at her forehead, "What about my face? How bad is it?"

"It's not as bad now that it isn't, like, covered in blood. I don't know how it happened, exactly, but you have a really gnarly cut on your forehead and a black eye. So, really, a little downtime is a good thing. You wouldn't want to jump your Viking hunk with your face all black and blue, right?"

She didn't care about that, actually. She just wanted him back.

Had Thor seen her in the portal, she wondered? Had he glimpsed the explosion? Had he seen the gateway at all? Did something prevent him from returning or… had he simply forgotten about her and his promise? She sighed, fighting back the wave of panic.

"Do I have to stay here all night?" She asked with more bite than she'd meant to. She wanted to go home and shower. Then she wanted to sulk into a gallon of double fudge chocolate ice cream and cry.

"Well, no, you don't… but it _has_ been strongly recommended that I stay with you for a while. At least until you've got some mobility back in that arm. It won't be _that _bad, Jane, come on. It'll like a slumber party."

In spite of her darkening mood, Jane laughed. Darcy still drove her nuts sometimes, but she always seemed to know when Jane needed distracting, or a break, or just to talk. She couldn't have asked for a better friend. She would need the help, she knew, and was glad that Darcy seemed so willing to provide it.

"Sure, okay, you can hang out until I'm not completely helpless."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Comments<strong>

First things first: The title of the story is derived from Fushigi Yuugi: Eikoden. Now, it's been a _very_ long time since I've watched Fushigi Yuugi in any of its forms, but the internet tells me it's this is the theme from OVA 3. I rediscovered it on a CD while scrounging around for music to write to.

It's a very pretty song, and has chosen to make itself something of a main theme for the story as I have constantly returned to it while writing. I highly recommend checking it out here: watch?v=PXz2MAVLV1U

I'm enormously pleased with this so far. Especially since I've re-written this first chapter twice and I just know that I haven't found all the typos (please be kind, I did try).

I find that the more I write for Darcy, the more I like her. She makes a great sidekick for Jane, and I think that the two of them will have bonded greatly after their time with Thor. She'll have more of a Spotlight later, but for now it's all about Jane and Thor.

On a side note, I did some research about dislocated limbs, and I have to say OUCH! My shoulder hurt just reading about them, and I almost didn't have the heart to do that to Jane. However, I did anyway.

**Update : **_Big thanks to **Lcsaf** for being my beta. This chapter has been upgraded to chapter 1.2. No major changes, just some errors found and corrected and a few word selection alterations. Cookie for you if you can find them. _


	2. Sometimes it really is the best policy

**Chapter 2**: Sometimes it really is the best policy.

* * *

><p>There was a lot of commotion as Darcy left to get cleaned up and one of the S.H.I.E.L.D agents came in to make a report. Jane was grateful to know that the Portal really was intact, but greatly disappointed to learn that its power stabilizer had fried and would need to be rebuilt from scratch. The cause of the explosion was unclear, as was the computer malfunction.<p>

Stark arrived just as she was redressing from a lukewarm and rather awkward shower in which Darcy had to help her with things she'd been managing for herself since age five. He had, much to Jane's aggravation, banned both of them from the hangar and all forms of research for seventy-two hours.

Agent Coulson had cemented himself permanently in her bad graces by vowing to post agents outside her own research base in town for that same length of time.

She knew they were right, just as they knew she would never take the time off to rest willingly. She hadn't taken a real day off in two years, actually. If she wasn't working on the portal then she was at her research area in town, or she worked from home. More often than not she fell asleep sitting up with charts and notes and photographs surrounding her. A few days without work would probably be beneficial.

But she didn't have to like it.

So she had sulked in the car on the way into town, and she had pouted though the grocery store, and by the time Darcy pulled the van into Jane's dusty driveway she was steeping in self-pity. She wanted to be back at the base; going over calculations or studying the data from the test. _Something_ that was useful.

She allowed her assistant to help her out of the car only because falling on her face would just add insult to injury. This, of course, was why she been forced onto sick leave. It was extremely aggravating to Jane, who had always been tenaciously self-sufficient, to be unable to do something as simple as opening her car door.

She wouldn't be able to write, type, or drive for the foreseeable future. And, while she was feeling miserable and inadequate, she didn't even know for certain if Thor _wanted _to come back. The possibility that he had never meant to return, that he would refuse to enter the portal when it was ready, was a doubt that played like a dirge in her mind whenever she felt vulnerable.

Dejectedly, Jane followed her assistant around the van in hopes that she could at least carry something into the house. They'd only just begun to bicker about it when the shiny silver mustang purred its way to a stop on the shoulder of the dirt road opposite her driveway. Jane watched the man step from the vehicle; short dark hair, suntanned, clean shaven. Medium height and build, from what she could see, with a purposeful stride and a stiff set to his shoulders.

She had thought that he must be an agent checking on her, as they periodically would whenever something gave Coulson cause to have her followed (which, she suspected, he did to annoy her). Except that she'd never seen any of the agents that she worked around regularly dress down into a black tee-shirt and dark gray slacks. She'd never seen any of them dress down at all, actually, and sometimes wondered if they weren't spawned into those suits.

"Jane? My God, what happened to you?"

Recognition sparked bright, leaving her to wonder just how hard she'd hit her head.

"Donald... what are you doing here?" she asked in return, marveling at why she hadn't recognized him immediately. It had only been three years, possibly a bit less than that, since their relationship had ended and he really hadn't changed much in that time. Minus the fact, she considered as she studied him, that he seemed somewhat bland.

When she had first met him, Jane had thought Dr. Donald Blake to be tall, dark and extremely sexy. Looking at him now, she saw nothing that wasn't ordinary.

The shoulders that had looked so broad seemed narrow and frail. The muscular, toned body he'd been so proud of, that she had admired, looked flaccid and weak to her view. The eyes that she had regarded as deep and mysterious now appeared flat, empty, and unremarkable. The cleft jaw, once strong and masculine, was fragile and awkward.

There was nothing striking about the man before her, and Jane was left to wonder if there ever had been. Perhaps Thor had altered her perception, or perhaps she now saw things as they were instead of how she wanted them to be. Either way, she felt nothing for the man that had once been such an important part of her life.

Well, nothing but a mild irritation. He'd always had an astonishing talent for showing up precisely when she really _didn't _want him to.

"That's all you have to say?" annoyance moved under the expression of attentive concern, though his voice retained its usual placid tone, "I drive all the way out to this godforsaken town to see you, and that's all you have to say? Never mind that for now, what happened, how did you hurt yourself?"

"She fell off a ladder." Darcy supplied quickly and despite the fact that the abrasions on her own face told a different story. Jane hoped that Donald didn't notice because, while the excuse wasn't original (or particularly convincing), it did not contain the words; lab, accident, or explosion. He'd never understood her work. He'd mocked it, and her, so often in their relationship that she had come to dread talking to him.

_You're clever. Far more clever than anyone else in this realm._

Thor couldn't know just how much those words had meant to her, even though she'd half believed him to be insane at the time he'd spoken them.

"A ladder, really?" He stared at her, brows raised and a blatant disbelief on his face that made Jane want to laugh. What had he expected, or, more accurately, what had he _wanted_ to hear? Surely people fell off ladders. It couldn't be _that_ rare, certainly more frequent than, say, an injury due to a malfunction in a trans-dimensional gateway.

Then again, maybe honesty really would be the best policy in this situation.

_Well it's the funniest thing. See I was helping to open a trans-dimensional portal to Asgard in order to bring Thor, god of thunder, back to earth… _

Okay, maybe not.

"Why are you here… and how did you find out where I live? I moved. Twice."

"I went by that shabby little diner you like so much. The woman who owns it, can't remember her name now, she remembered me and told me where you'd moved. I'm sorry, I know I should have called first but-" He grinned at her, a look that had lost its power to charm her, "I just wanted to see you, to talk to you."

"About?" Already he had forgotten that her arm was in a sling and part of her face was black and blue. That wasn't important to him, or not as important to him, as whatever it was he so suddenly needed to discuss with her. Her attitude was throwing him off, as she knew it would, and he was struggling to regain his imagined control of the situation.

"About _us._" About what happened between us." He reached for her, cupping her jaw in one hand and letting the other rest on her uninjured shoulder. His fingers felt strange on her skin; cold, unnaturally soft and almost feminine.

Her mind traced back to that first morning with Thor when she had refused to take him to Mjolnir. She remembered the rough calluses on his fingers, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles before he had pressed a soft kiss to her fingers. She remembered the amusement sparkling in his blue eyes, and the warmth of his breath against her skin.

"We had something amazing, Jane." Donald's eyes were dark brown, and as cool and distant as they'd always been, "We were _amazing_ together. We could be amazing again."

She realized his intention a moment too late as he stepped forward and pressed his mouth to hers. Shock snapped into fury and she struggled violently away from him, stumbling back into the open van door hard enough to send pain shooting through her arm. Too outraged to speak, Jane could only stare.

She saw confusion in his eyes, and it only increased her ire.

"Uh… Jane's, like, seeing someone already." Quiet and forgotten, Darcy stood with her arms folded and her back leaning against the side of the van. She cocked her head when Donald looked at her, the first time since he had arrived, and one of her dark brows rose in challenge. Her expression alone sent a clear message; _Argue with me. I dare you_.

Darcy's loyalty to Thor was as resolute as Jane's own. More than once had her assistant intercepted and discouraged the unwanted advances of her coworkers at the portal site. Usually Jane wished that she could perform this task with more subtlety, however, just now, she was enormously grateful for Darcy's frankness.

"You're not!" Donald laughed, eyes flicking between the two women and finally settling on Jane, "Don't tell me you've picked out some local hick to idle away your nights with. I mean I figured you'd be starved for decent company in this backwater little town, but that's… just pathetic."

"You're the one that's pathetic, dude." Darcy muttered, earning a sneer from him.

"It doesn't matter if he's local or… or from another planet! I _am _seeing someone," or she hoped to be, if he wanted her, "that should be enough for you to understand that _we_ are over."

"Now, Jane, I don't think you-"

"_No_. This subject is not open for discussion. You know the reasons why I left you. I've moved on, you need to do the same."

He looked, Jane thought, exactly as he had the day she had told him she was leaving permanently. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and his face was set with mild disbelief and mild frustration. Always mild, everything had always been mild, cool, or composed. There had been no heat in him, no passion or ardor. Even when they had argued he'd been so calm and reasonable, no matter what she did to try and rouse his temper.

But he had _hated_ not getting his way, and always it would force him to argue in that infuriatingly calm and perfectly reasonable tone, keeping the argument going until Jane was exhausted and emotionally depleted. She saw the argument in him now, saw it brewing in his dark eyes, and braced for it.

Then he hesitated, eyes darting to her shoulder and the bright blue sling keeping her arm immobile, and he stepped back.

"I'm very serious about this, Jane, I don't think you can realize how serious. I think that we need to sit down and talk about this, in _private_." He shot a glance at Darcy, "However, I _do_ understand why this may not be the best time, so I will wait and we can talk when you're better. If you need anything, you know my number."

His eyes tracked back to Darcy, annoyance brimming and a barely contained sneer brimming in them. It was likely that he blamed her for Jane's lack of cooperation, or possibly her injury. Oblivious to this, Darcy smiled brightly and offered her hand,

"Nice meeting you."

His lip curled in distaste and it seemed like he was going to walk away, but Darcy was unwavering and Donald's ivy-league manners eventually won out and he took the proffered limb. But instead of shaking, Darcy pulled his hand closer to her body, clasping it tightly and locking her gaze with his.

"He's bigger than you. Way bigger. Might want to think about that. Bye now." She smirked at him as he tore his hand from hers and spun away, stalking to his car without a word.

Darcy had gotten under his skin, Jane thought as she watched Donald peel out and shoot down the road like large silver bullet. Nothing Jane had ever done (accidentally or otherwise) had ever seemed to pierce that armor. He had been remote, always, even in their intimacy. It had been one of the things that had, eventually, driven her away.

But she remembered now that there had been times, though few and far between, that the reticent mask had been cracked and Jane would glimpse something beneath the charm and polish that she could only perceive as dark and bitter. It had been like a single wrong note in a song, always catching her off guard as soon as she thought she knew the melody.

Darcy had fractured Donald's reserved, indifferent mask, and she had done it with ease. More than that, Jane thought with disquiet, she had done it intentionally.

She had never thought of Donald as a dangerous man, not like Thor who had practically oozed with it, but all the same… she was suddenly anxious. What would Donald do if Darcy kept pushing him, as she was clearly capable of doing, what was he capable of? She didn't think she wanted to know.

So she turned, intending to caution and instruct, but hesitated.

Darcy was staring at the rapidly disappearing mustang with a troubled expression that Jane had never seen on her before. It was an intense, apprehensive look that was at odds with the young woman that Jane had come to know. She felt, though she didn't know quite why, that there was something happening that ought to be obvious, but was anything but.

"Darcy, you okay?"

"I'm fine," replied she, lowering her hand and very deliberately wiping her palm on the front of her dark jeans, "I just really wish Thor were here right now. That's all."

She turned, gathered the grocery bags and moved contemplatively toward the front door, keys in hand. Jane started to follow and then looked back to where the silver car had disappeared from view. Why, she wondered, had Donald had decided to find her three years after she had broken their engagement?

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Comments <strong>

Once again I was going to wait to post this but I just couldn't stop myself. Mostly due to the overwhelming response the first chapter received.

I can't see how Jane would have an unwavering belief that Thor intended to return. She's brilliant and strong, sure, but she's still a woman and I think she'd have doubts and fears like everyone does. While she doesn't normally give in to it, at the moment she had nothing to do _but_ think on everything that can go wrong.

And then there's Donald. I think the poor bastard's attitude comes from having the name of a popular cartoon character (if your name is Donald, please don't be offended. It's a great name, I had an uncle named Donald whom I was very fond of).

For some reason, I just keep picturing Darcy as Jane's little guard dog. Or, more accurately, she's Thor's little guard dog, protecting his interests until he can come back and lay claim. Can't you just see her giving some poor nerdy scientist the stare down as he stands somewhere behind Jane's desk with flowers and a box of Ferrero Rocher candies wrapped in a big red bow? I can.

**Update : **_Big thanks to Lcsaf for being my beta. No real critical changes; some word exchange, and clarification on paragraphs that needed a touchup. _


	3. The Place Where I Should be

**Chapter 3: **The Place Where I Should Be

* * *

><p>The city stretched out before him, glimmering gold and white, and bejeweled with color. The twilight sun turned Asgard's crystal waters to brilliant amethyst. Overhead the evening star shone bright, the spear-point of the <em>Odin<em> constellation that shone above the palace year-round.

Thor stood on the open balcony of his receiving chamber, resplendent in his armor, _Mjolnir_ hanging faithfully at his side. His shoulders were stiff and his back rigid beneath the scarlet cloak. His hands gripped the parapet rail so tightly cracks were beginning to form beneath his fingertips, and though he stared at the city that had always been his home, he found no wonder in its beauty.

Instead, he saw only the broken outline of the Bifrost Bridge, a painful and constant reminder of what his brother's treachery had cost him.

"There was a time," Fandral said, stepping to the partition and resting his hand on it, "When you would have unleashed your fury upon this chamber."

"My friend," Thor replied, "I'm afraid I am not fit company at this time."

"And yet," The warrior replied, "here I stand. As most of your moods of late correspond directly with the mortal girl, shall I assume that Heimdall gave you unfortunate news today?"

Thor let his eyes close, as though doing so would contain the surging emotions that battled within him. Rage, fear, hurt, longing, jealousy, and the beginnings of despair all battled one another for dominance within him. It was taking every ounce of control he could muster not to throw the table across the room; to resist the need to break, crush and destroy until he was spent and numb.

The beings on Midgard were delicate and so easily damaged. If he wished to reside there, if he wished to become Jane's husband, he would need to control his temper lest he become a risk to her safety.

"Jane… has been injured." He finally replied, and just uttering it seemed to reignite the blast of fear that had gripped him as he'd stood on the Bifrost Bridge with Heimdall, listening second to second as the Guardian focused his sight on Earth.

Fandral focused intently on Thor, trying to decipher the seriousness of the situation "She lives, I hope. It is not a mortal injury?" His concern was genuine, and the Asgardian prince was grateful for it.

"She lives. Her arm has been dislocated. By our standards that is not a grievous injury, but humans are so delicate… I believe it will take her months to recover. There was an explosion during the test of their Bifrost, the cost could have been much worse than it was."

He thought of Heimdall that afternoon, who had smirked just a little as he'd said, _"The one called 'Darcy' greatly fears your wrath, my prince." _It almost made him smile. He would have to tell his little friend that he did not hold her responsible for Jane's injury.

"I am sorry that she has been hurt, and for the pain it brings you. I suppose this means that the Human's Bifrost is a failure and you will return to spending all of your time pouring over Loki's manuscripts."

"Do not dismiss the ability of the mortals so easily, my friend. Aside from the fact that they have yet to find a way to sustain its power beyond a few seconds; it works perfectly."

"The explosion-"

"Heimdall believes that it was a separate incident, possible treachery. He has not located a traitor among the humans, as yet, but believes that one exists."

They lapsed into silence, each retreating to the solitude of his thoughts. A cool breeze swept over the balcony, carrying the barest scent of autumn with it. If Heimdall's assessment was accurate, Thor would be long gone before the first snow blanketed the streets. He would miss the Winter Festival, and that made him a little sad.

In the years before his brother's betrayal, the six of them would take to the city for three days of drunken debauchery. They would brawl, drink, wench, drink, feast… and drink. By the third day it was often Sif who would undertake the task of locating them and having them hauled back to the palace. One year she'd had to revive him from drunken slumber with a bucket of cold water. Another year they'd discovered Volstagg asleep in an empty barrel of mead… and missing his pants.

He'd enjoyed himself immensely when he was sober enough to be aware of what was going on around him. Looking back, however, he could feel only embarrassment for the raucous, undisciplined, selfish boy he had been. He strove now to be a better son to his father, a wise prince to his people, and a man worthy of Jane Foster's hand.

That wasn't to say that he didn't enjoy the occasional drunken brawl. Sif's Name-Day celebration had been the stuff of legends, most of which he could remember.

"Lady Jane's injury was not the only thing to have evoked your anger." Fandral stated after a time.

"You know me well."

"We've known one another a long time, Thor. If the girl is alive and the Midgard Bifrost nearly complete, it means that something else has happened. What troubles you?"

Where to begin, Thor wondered. How to put into words the jealous rage that suffused his blood?

Heimdall had been reluctant relate the events that had transpired when Jane had arrived home that day. Whether because he had known just how deeply it would trouble the prince or because he considered the event trivial, was unclear to Thor. He had related it though; and Thor had listened helplessly as this _Donald_ had forced his advances onto an unwilling Jane.

Bad enough that he should have to carry the burden that Jane had been injured because he had broken his word. Now he faced a rival for Jane's affections, and he was unable to stand at her side and prove himself the more worthy candidate.

"Thor, my friend, your balcony cannot withstand much more of that treatment." He looked down, saw that the stone under his grip was fracturing badly. Embarrassed, he quickly lifted his hands and stepped back. He looked to Fandral, sighed, and told him everything.

His friend was silent through the recitation, alternating between observing Thor, and looking out over the city. Thor, too agitated to stay still, began to stalk back and forth across the wide platform of his terrace, hands balled into fists at his side.

"She did not tolerate him." He said, thinking that it ought to have comforted him to know how quickly and forcefully Jane had rejected the touch of another man. "His actions repelled her, but still…"

"You're not angry with _her_ are you?" Fandral asked, clearly surprised, "Thor, it hardly sounds as though she welcomed this man."

"Of course not," Thor shook his head, reached up to run a restless hand through his blond hair, "I could never blame her for this. I only feel as I am responsible for it. Had I returned, this man would never have become close enough to touch her."

"Had you not destroyed the Bifrost, _Jotunheim _would have been annihilated. Could you have faced her then, knowing you had allowed the execution of an entire world?"

"No," He admitted, returning to stand beside his friend and comrade to look out over the city, "but still, I feel as though I have failed her."

And he worried, though he would not admit so, that Jane would soon grow tired of waiting. That she would give up and seek comfort from another, from the man who had sought her out. He feared that, by the time he was able to reach her, she would have moved on and forgotten him.

He had spent months pouring over the texts in Loki's chambers. His brother's library was vast and Thor had eventually been persuaded to assign a team of sages to the task of searching for the secret pathways Loki had used to slip between the realms. The progress therein had been slow, due to the fact that his brother had taken the peculiar precaution of magically coding most of his manuscripts.

"You will see her again, Thor. Earth is the place you are meant to be; its protector, as once was your father."

"When the sages find another path…"

"You can be assured that Lady Sif and the Warriors Three will be the first through it, eager to visit you."

Thor smiled, letting the turbulent emotions inside him begin to settle. Fandral was right, he _would_ go back. One way, or another, he would return. In the meantime he would begin the preparations for his departure, and there was much to do.

"Was the other human girl injured in this explosion, the girl who was with you when we arrived?"

"Do you speak of Darcy? She was with Jane, but her injuries were minor."

"Ah, yes, the lovely Lady Darcy." He smiled, stroking his beard contemplatively, "I regret that I had not the chance to know her better."

Amused, Thor could only shake his head. "If you choose to pursue a human, Fandral, I will not stop you. If that human is Darcy, however, I'll have your word that your intentions toward her are honest."

"My intentions are _always _honest." Fandral grinned, "But you have my word."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Comments<strong>

Yes, Odin has a constellation of himself.

Come on, you all know Thor was a total playboy before he met Jane. Fandral is too, but Darcy will take care of that. :p

The Winter Festival was created for the single purpose of being able to use the words Drunken Debauchery in a sentence and to give you all the image of Volstagg without his pants.

I think that Fandral and Thor have probably known each other since childhood. He might even have been the first of Thor's Warriors Three. I base this a little off the fact that he was less willing to believe Loki's Treason, whereas Hogun and Sif saw it right away.

I imagine that if Fandral had grown up with Loki and Thor, it would be harder for him to accept that Loki had betrayed them.

And does anyone know where a good online Norse/Norwegian-whatever translator is? All the ones I've tried majorly suck.

**Update: **_Big thanks to Lcsaf for being my beta, and to all those who have volunteered to be my translators. Let's all just assume that if there are any major edits, I'll mention it. Mostly spelling and grammar. _


	4. Leave it to Darcy to Lighten the Mood

**Chapter 4: **Leave it to Darcy to lighten the mood.

* * *

><p>There were few things Jane found more comfort in than the night sky. As a child she would spend many a summer night in the field behind her house, nested in the sun warmed grass next to her mother, picking out constellations, making wishes on shooting stars, and just talking. Always there had been a sense of safety and peace on those lazy evenings, and she treasured the memories.<p>

She was reminded of that comfort and closeness now as she and Darcy lay on reclining lawn chairs under a sky ablaze with stars. The mood had lightened considerably as they lounged before a cheerful campfire, wrapped in blankets and armed with quarts of ice cream. Gabbing and giggling like teenagers, Jane found herself, for the first time, talking to someone about her relationship with Donald and the reasons why it had ended.

"So… the sex was bad."

Darcy turned the spoonful of mocha toffee crunch ice-cream over on her tongue. The light from the campfire crackling happily away in the brazier danced over her features, making her look much younger than she was.

"Not _bad_, just…" she hesitated, searching for a word. It hadn't been exactly bad, not that she had a wealth of experience for comparison. It was also true that Donald, for all his shortcomings, had never left her completely unsatisfied. Still there had been something lacking, and their moments of intimacy had seemed so… so… "polite?"

"Polite?" one brow rose, and she laughed, "Like… 'Hi, how's the weather,' polite?"

"Well… yeah, kind of. I don't know any other way to describe it. He was just always so calm and composed… sometimes it felt like… like a courtesy if that makes sense and he was like that about everything. Whenever we'd argue, no matter what I said or did, he'd always reply in this soft, reasonable tone."

"That would be _seriously_ annoying." She dug her spoon back into the carton, "Is it why you left? 'Cause he wouldn't fight like a normal person?"

"It was one of the reasons, I guess. There were a lot of other problems, though. He was very controlling; dictated where I should and shouldn't go, how I spent too much time on my research, stuff like that."

"And he was bad in bed."

"Yeah, and," Jane laughed. "When he proposed… it was like, for the first time, I could really see what my life had become, and what it would turn into if I stayed with him. We fought and I left. When he didn't come after me I guess I thought that he had finally understood, finally listened. Obviously, I was wrong."

She hadn't scrutinized her relationship with Donald in a long time. Not since, she realized, she had met Thor. But she had begun pulling away from Donald long before she'd left him physically. Purchasing the building her research station was based in, buying the camper she would use when she had worked too late to drive back to their apartment. Little things.

In a grim twist of irony, Donald's own actions had driven her into Thor's path. To annoy him and defy his control, Jane had gone deeper and deeper into the desert for her research which had led to the mysterious storms which had led to Puente Antiguo, the research station and, finally, to the man she loved.

"I wonder how Thor will deal with him." Darcy mused, "Somehow I can't picture him being overly friendly to the douche bag that put a move on his girl while he's away."

"If he even wants to come back." The injured astrophysicist murmured in reply, and quickly stuffed a large spoonful of sweet, sugary comfort into her mouth. Jane had never believed in fate or destiny before. She had never believed in soul mates, or that two people could meet once and just _know_ they were meant to be together. She had never known that you could know someone for a few days, and love them as though you'd had a lifetime together.

Until Thor.

Now she felt as though she were standing on the edge of a precipice, and had no idea if he would be there to catch her when she jumped from it.

"Come _on_, Jane, he wouldn't have told you he'd be back if he didn't mean it. Something happened up there. You know it."

"I know… I know, it's just that sometimes I'm so afraid that-" she sighed, closing her eyes against the tide of emotion that surged endlessly inside of her. "That we'll get the portal working, only to find out that he never wanted to come back. I'm so scared that I just imagined that he… that he… cared about me."

"Oh, _please_, everyone saw the way he looked at you. You're, like, connected or something." the small brunet plunged her spoon into the container again, and looked at Jane with surprising astuteness, "Know what I think?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me."

"_I _think that while you're making the portal to his world, he's looking for a portal to you. Something happened to the pie-frost thingy, and he can't use it."

"_Bi_frost."

"Whatever. So, like, either you'll get the portal working and bring him through, or he'll find some other Einstein-Rozen-whatsit-"

"Einstein Rosen Bridge," Jane sighed, exasperated at just how often she had to correct that one. She was beginning to think that Darcy did it on purpose.

"What_ever_. You know what I mean. Either you'll get things working on our side, _or_ he'll find some other way to come back here."

"I hope you're right," she sighed again, this time with less exasperation and more uncertainty.

"I'm totally right," Darcy admonished, jabbing her spoon in her boss' direction emphatically. "Just you wait and see."

She laughed, surprised to find that Darcy's absolute faith in Thor's promise could chase away her own doubts. He had given her his word that he would return for her. She needed to trust him and that, as Darcy said, he was looking for a way to keep his promise.

"HEAR THAT, THOR?" her friend suddenly shouted at the sky, "JANE'S TOTALLY PINING AFTER YOU, SO HURRY UP AND GET YOUR SEXY ASGARDIAN ASS BACK HERE!"

"_Darcy!_ There are Shield Agents right over _there_." She gestured wildly to the black car parked at the far end of her unfenced back yard.

"So?"

"Oh my god!" Dropping her spoon into her ice cream, Jane covered her face with her good hand, laughing even through the humiliation.

The days and weeks that followed were difficult, but productive. Jane began physical therapy only two weeks after the injury and _only_ after a lengthily fight with her Doctor. Due to the fact that it was her first dislocation, the much put-upon physician had preferred to wait three weeks to begin her recover. Jane had wanted to start after one, and eventually they had agreed to compromise.

Dr. Gantz had reluctantly admitted that her arm was, actually, healing very quickly and had conceded to stop arguing with her. She still had to rest the appendage frequently, and she was limited in how much weight she could carry, but it was nice to be able to bathe and dress without Darcy's help.

As Jane's arm healed, Darcy found herself busier than she had ever been. There seemed to be an innumerable amount of things that Jane wasn't supposed to do, but would attempt if no one was around to stop her. When Darcy wasn't writing out calculations, she was typing up reports, carrying books, or fixing coffee.

Jane was often surprised that Darcy didn't up and quit over the amount of responsibility that had abruptly been heaped upon her shoulders. More often than not the two of them would be up well into the night; Jane with her theories and charts, and Darcy with her homework.

Stark's presence was both a great help, and a great hindrance. The power-stabilizer he was creating would allow them to keep the portal open for several minutes, but getting it to do so without blowing the Portal's main computer was proving to be more of a challenge. Stark loved a challenge, however, and was often turning up in Jane's office, research station, and sometimes even her house with new ideas and schematics.

He had learned quickly not to show up at her house until after eight, and to bribe his way in with coffee.

The cause of the explosion was still a mystery. There had been traces of chemicals around the door outside the Observations room which, if mixed, could have created a small scale explosion given the right catalyst. The trouble was that it was missing the trigger, and no deployment devise had been found.

Further more, the prankster him/herself had not made a move since the explosion. The S.H.I.E.L.D agents in charge of the investigation had no leads, no suspects, and were as stumped as they could be. Tony had analyzed the footage as well, but had been able to offer no additional insight.

A tense atmosphere hung over the Base now. People spoke in hushed, anxious whispers and everyone felt the need to look over their shoulder. It was understandable, considering that at least half the personnel at the base had either the knowledge to build a bomb, or the resources and intelligence to figure it out.

Things with Donald had progressed as she had feared they would. He would appear two or three times a week, never on the same days, intent on wooing her back to him. He would bring gifts sometimes; flowers and candy and other small tokens and would leave them on her doorstep when she refused them.

His visits were like a blast from the past, entrenching her in unpleasant flashbacks of the history she shared with him.

Three years ago his actions would have made sense. It was exactly what she had expected then, for him to turn up unannounced and try to charm, persuade, or beleaguer her into compliance. It was a tactic he had used often; wearing her down about an issue, twisting her words, and exhausting her until she gave in. It was how he had convinced her to move in with him.

So his blatant refusal to accept and respect her wishes wasn't entirely out of the ordinary, however, it _felt_ off this time. There was something in the intensity of his persistence that seemed unnatural. Nothing she said seemed to make him remember how much they'd argued the last few months of the relationship, like he had re-written it in his mind to be some sort of lover's paradise.

While she couldn't say she felt threatened so much as annoyed, it was unsettling enough that she had put in a call to a friend who still worked at the same hospital with him. It was a conversation that had yielded few answers to Jane's questions. As far as anyone knew there hadn't been a tragedy in his family, he hadn't lost a patient, and he hadn't seen anyone regularly since Jane.

She'd try and sic S.H.I.E.L.D on him if it weren't for the enormous lump of pride that kept getting in the way. That, and the fact that he would question to many things that they didn't want reaching mainstream media just yet, prompted her to hold off.

But his visits were such a strain. A stress on top of so many other stresses sometimes it felt like she couldn't breathe for the pressure of it all. She worried now that Thor might ask Heimdall to look down on her and might misinterpret Donald's frequent appearances as something else, something more than it was. The thought had bothered her so much that she had dissolved into tears during Donald's last visit and had (embarrassingly) begged him to leave.

Only Darcy, fresh from class and very upset to find her temporary home besieged, had been able to chase him away.

The war between her assistant and her ex had grown by epic proportions. The ritual of battle was nearly always the same; Donald would act as though Darcy didn't exist, and she would ignore his ignoring her. She would talk for Jane, talk to Jane over Donald, talk incessantly about Thor or, as she called him, 'Jane's hunk of a boyfriend', and generally be as obnoxious as she possibly could.

The amount of time that Donald could stand this without snapping was remarkably short, prompting him to leave quickly.

With every encounter, Darcy's ability to utterly pulverize Donald's stoic calm grew. It was like she had an instinct for what buttons to push and when. The way Donald acted, as though she were unseen and unheard, only encouraged her. It was ostensibly childish the way he acted (setting aside her assistant's own actions), but for the dark looks he would cast Darcy's way now and then, and the way his hands would clench into fists whenever she spoke.

She had started to see it as a kind of timer, ticking steadily down to zero. Each confrontation counted off another number. Jane couldn't see the numbers, though, or have any way to know how many were left before Donald's rigid control shattered.

Nothing Jane said could seem to convince Darcy not to bait him. The younger woman would just smile in that sleepy, secretive way of hers and claim innocence.

She sighed heavily, rubbing at her eyes in a futile attempt to erase the pressure building between her temples. Life had been so much simply when she'd lived alone in a camp trailer, idling her evenings away in front of a telescope. Now she had to watch her closest friend waltz her way into something potentially harmful, something that Jane didn't fully understand. Her father figure had barely spoken to her in the last six months, all because Jane herself had dragged him in S.H.I.E.L.D's path.

And she could barely step outside her house without tripping over Tony Stark's ego.

Speaking of…

"Good morning, sweetheart."

"Hello, Tony. Stop calling me sweetheart."

Jane watched the infamous Ironman saunter up to her desk, take off his sunglasses and cast a curious look at Darcy's empty work table. "Where's the kid?"

"In class, like she is every Wednesday morning." Thank God.

Jane had been horrified to discover that her assistant seemed to function on Tony's level and somehow the two of them caused as much disruption and chaos as the Prankster himself. Jane wasn't sure if it was Darcy's age in proportion to Stark's inherent immaturity that gave them some sort of bizarre common ground, or if it was the fact that Darcy was as smart and cheeky to him as he was to everyone else.

It was weird, whatever it was. She liked Tony, and she liked Darcy… but she liked them both a significantly more when they weren't in proximity to each other. She wasn't sure how Stark saw Darcy (or the world in general, really. The man had more moods than Dr. Lao had faces), she just knew that the two of them were a potent mix of chaos.

"Well I was going to tell you both together, but…." He grinned. "I've solved the stabilizer problem."

"How?" Jane sat up straighter, ignoring the ache in her shoulder when she shifted her arm. Sore, she thought distantly, she'd need to give her arm a rest soon or it would tighten up unbearably tonight.

"Well, it's going to take some work to fix. Some of the materials we used to build the Stargate-"

"Don't call it that," She huffed. "Darcy's been influencing you."

"No," He replied. "I've been influencing her. Now, the new power stabilizer is perfect, but it's reacting oddly to some of the materials used in the _Stargate_'s original design." He unrolled a set of blueprints over Jane's desk, nearly knocking over her cup of coffee.

"You've completely redesigned it. And you…" she stared aghast at the top of the blueprints "You named it after _me!" _ Not that it wasn't flattering… it was only that _The Stark-Foster Rosen Bridge _was not, at all, what she had envisioned calling it. Darcy's hand was in this somewhere, she just knew it.

"Of course I did. Your theory made it possible, my genius made it happen." He edged a hip on her desk. "This design is based heavily off the information you got from M.C. Hammer, and the calculations you worked out based on the storms you chased down. In effect, it is going to synthesize a miniature storm in a controlled setting."

"How on _earth_ did you manage _that_?"

"I know. I manage to amaze myself sometimes. It'll work with an RT unit as a power source, the new power stabilizer, and be able to keep the portal open for at least two minutes, if not more, and its tamper proof." He looked at her over the top of his sunglasses. "And by tamper proof I really mean booby-trapped."

"Tony, don't think that I'm complaining, but… it took us _six_ months to build the portal we have."

"Five weeks."

"Impossible!" She protested, wincing when she instinctively jerked her arm back to gesture.

"Five weeks. Coulson has already reviewed the plans (not that he understood them) and received Fury's ok. The materials are on their way and you and I are going to start reprogramming the computers as soon as your assistant is back to fetch and carry."

Five weeks.

She was going to see Thor in five weeks.

Unable to stop herself, Jane jumped up and threw herself on Tony in an awkward one-armed hug that made him laugh and state that he was flattered, but was a happily engaged man.

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Author's Comments<strong>**

Phew! I really hadn't meant for this chapter to be so long…but it just wouldn't wrap up. I hope that I wrote Stark okay. It's been a while since I've seen the movies and there aren't a lot of good clips on Youtube. I hope to be able to acquire one of the movies between now and when he next appears so I'll have a better reference.

I think that Stark and Darcy would get along frighteningly well. They have the same brand of sarcasm and are, I think, about on the same maturity level. I can see them frolicking through the halls together slipping salt or something into Coulson's coffee, hijacking the face book profiles of random personnel to leave weird status postings, and even shanghaiing Jane into playing hooky from work.

**Update: **_Thanks to my beta Lcsaf. Lots of grammar edits in this chapter, and larger changes to several paragraphs. Kudos to those who can spot them, please don't ruin the magic for others. _


	5. Red Sparrow Rephrise

**Chapter 5: **Red Sparrow Rephrase

* * *

><p>"The time of your departure grows near, my prince."<p>

Thor stood at the edge of the bridge beside the Guardian, staring into the void. He wished he could see with Heimdall's eyes, see the progress his remarkable Jane was making toward his return. He could scarcely believe that in just a few short weeks he would at last be able to keep his word. The sickly thread of despair that had gripped him since Jane's accident had fallen away and he was left with hope and anticipation.

He was eager to meet the man to whom he owed this gift, this _Tony Stark_, who would hold the gratitude of Thor for ages to come. He had finally been able to make preparations for his departure in earnest, beginning with the decision of which of his belongings would travel with him, and which would stay behind.

There were also gifts to be chosen and crafted for Jane, Darcy, and Eric. The sages needed solid instructions for when he was no longer able to supervise their progress on Loki's manuscripts himself. He had lists of instructions for his friends, for Heimdall, and even for his mother. If it weren't for the willing and able help of Fandral, he was uncertain that he would be well equipped when the time came.

"How is she today?" He asked waiting as Heimdall cast his gaze to Midgard. Soon he would be looking at Jane with his own eyes. He would be able to aid her, care for her, protect her, and begin to make amends for each day and night of his absence.

"She sleeps now," Heimdall replied, "It is not good for her injury, I think, for her to lean over the table as she is."

An exhausted sleep, he knew. Something she had been falling into all too often of late. It was a point of discord in him that Jane should feel the need to work herself into near collapse for his sake. Although, he did suspect that her long days and late nights could have has much to do with her former suitor as it did with the amount of work needed for the new Bifrost.

And that was a problem, Thor mused grimly, that he could not too soon put an end to.

"Is Darcy with her?"

"She is. I do not believe that she has noticed her mistress' slumber."

Jane enjoyed her work, and she excelled at it, but he worried for her health and the still healing arm she often overworked. Some days she might actually forget to eat were it not for Darcy's continued presence, half cajoling and half bullying, who always ensured that Jane received sustenance… whether she wanted it or not.

"How soon until I am to return?" The time had fluctuated since the Bridge Guardian had first told him the humans had dismantled their contraption and begun work on an entirely different one. Problems had occurred when the materials had first arrived, though even Heimdall could not say for certain if it was an honest mistake or another attempt at sabotage.

"Very soon," Heimdall replied. "The humans are in severe disagreement over the issue. The Son of Coul wishes to proceed cautiously, however, Jane and the Iron Warrior are insistent on opening the Bifrost in two weeks time."

Thor's mouth twitched, imagining the scene. He very much doubted that anything could stand between Jane and something she wanted. She was a force to be reckoned with; a fragile human who was strong, determined, and unafraid no matter how strange she might have found him. A woman able to teach him (a feat in and of itself) the value of kindness and compassion, a thing he had always viewed as weakness.

Enduring in the face of uncertainty and bold in the face of danger, Jane had the spirit of a warrior. Persisting through the difficulty of her research, the threat this 'prankster' presented, the burden of Donald, the pain of her injury and all the questions he had left behind. Indomitable, even when she doubted his sincerity.

And all of it, he knew, was for him.

It was overwhelming at times to see and realize the depth of her feelings for him. Unable to communicate, Jane reached across worlds for a man with whom she had only a few stolen moments. Trusting; with no more than his words to guide her, that he had always meant to return.

Paradoxically, her single-mindedness was exasperating. They had waited two years to be together again, what was an extra week or so? He was eager to return to her, but not at the cost of her physical and mental state. Her body needed rest, sustenance, and recreation. He had to admire her tenacity, especially when it made him want to throttle her.

Jane would triumph over the son of Coul, of that he had no doubt. She had the support of the Stark (as Heimdall often called him), and that often made all the difference.

As best the Guardian could understand, this _Ironman_ did as he pleased and few bothered to attempt argument with him. He was a presence that was both comical and commanding; both welcoming and intimidating to those he employed. At odds with himself as much as he was with those around him but finding a niche with Jane and Darcy, and keeping them well entertained as they worked with him.

Thor waited with Heimdall another hour, enjoying the quiet companionship. Jane slept peacefully through that time with Darcy pausing in her studies long enough to slip a pillow beneath her head and shift her arm to a more comfortable position.

He made his way back to the palace slowly. He would take his time now, today, because there might not be time tomorrow. It would be an unknowable amount of time before he would return to Asgard, his birth home, and he wanted to take his time, and remember.

There was the tavern where he and Loki had spent their first Winter Festival (not that he remembered much of it).

There was the Arena where Sif had first begun to prove herself one of Asgard's most fearsome warriors.

He rode past the open restaurant where he had first met Volstagg.

The little tavern where he met and fought Hogun.

The street where a young Fandral had met Kelda, the apprentice scribe whose trickery had deeply wounded his friend.

He would enjoy telling Jane of these places, of the adventures and exploits he had experienced with his friends. He would regale her with the day that Loki had talked all of them into dressing as women to crash a wedding in another realm (and that Odin himself had joined them). He would tell her of the feasts and fights he had attended and all the beauty and wonder that would one day be hers to explore.

There would be time to tell her everything, give her everything, all the stories and deeds of his life. He would gladly offer her all of himself, good and bad, omitting nothing.

Except, maybe, the time that he, Loki, and Fandral had been caught spying on the Women's Bath, it might be better not to tell her about that one. He still wasn't sure how they'd fallen in, and he really didn't want to tell her about how an angry, violent, and very naked Sif had chased them out. That was one story he did prefer not to tell.

He smiled a little at the memory. They'd been only boys, early into adolescence. The fact that he, the Mighty Thor, had ran from a girl was humiliating… but damned if he hadn't feared for his life when Sif had come at them like an apparition from the netherworld. He had never seen her so angry, before or since, and really preferred to leave that particular incident buried in the past.

Thor nodded to several of his guard as he entered his Hall, smirking a little at the familiar voice of Volstagg bellowing some bawdy drinking song in his chambers (it must be bath day). The clash of metal on metal echoed in from his courtyard as Hogun and Fandral sparred (Fandral had the upper hand at the moment), and he could detect the faint sounds of Sif playing her harp (a talent few knew of).

He passed by silently, knowing that his friends would seek him out soon enough.

He would miss them, of course. He would miss their battles, their squabbles, and the long evenings spent in their company. Yet Thor was needed on Earth, and his companions understood that. Just as they understood that Odin needed them, four formidable warriors whose loyalty was unquestionable, at his side in Asgard. The scent of treason still tainted the palace halls, and they had no way of knowing if Laufey was the only enemy Loki had consorted with.

Confusion greeted him when he entered the outermost chamber of his suite of rooms, a large chamber meant for receiving and entertaining guests, and found his banquet table artfully spread with an afternoon repast. He rarely used the chamber, and preferred to retire with his friends to one of the rooms further in which were more suited to lounging. He didn't entertain, and preferred to keep all but those closest to him out of his chambers.

Confusion transferred quickly to guilt when Odin stepped from the terrace to greet him. "Father, this is a surprise. I hope I did not neglect an appointment."

Things between them had become better. They were closer now than they had ever been, and it saddened Thor to think that some of that distance may have been Loki carefully playing them against each other. Not all of it, though. No, so much of it had been his own doing it was impossible to distinguish from the treachery of his brother.

He regretted immensely the fool he had been, and the pain his actions had caused his family… and yet… those same actions had brought him to Jane.

"Does Odin need an appointment to share the midday meal with his son?" the All Father asked with amusement clear in his voice.

"No," Thor laughed, "Of course not." He gestured for his father to take the head of the table, and sat dutifully at his right hand.

Odin snapped his fingers and one of Thor's servants hastened out to serve them wine. Thor waited patiently while his plate was filled with an array of meats and cheeses, slices of thick warmed bread, and pieces of fruit.

"How is the mortal girl today?" Odin asked when the servants had retreated. Light played off his robes, and there was amusement in his eyes. They did not talk about Jane much, and rarely did Odin ask about her. He worried that his father disapproved of her, of the woman he had chosen for himself, and that a rift would form between them again. The thought of it was painful but, he already knew that he would never allow something to come between himself and Jane. Not ever again.

"She was resting when I spoke with Heimdall," Thor replied, remembering well how sweet and soft Jane looked when she slept. He had lain awake for hours that night, alternately watching her sleep and staring up at the stars. "She is well… but very tired."

"The healing process in humans often takes much from their energy." His father mused, "How is her injury? Is it healing well?"

"It pains her still, but her strength recovers much faster than I had anticipated," He replied cautiously, trying to decipher his father's questions. There was a reason behind everything Odin did, and nearly everything he said.

Odin set his goblet aside and returned Thor's studied gaze with his own. Then, Odin smiled and laughed a little. He shook his head and reached over to rest his hand on Thor's armored shoulder. "I always believed that you and Sif would be paired."

"Father-"

The All Father raised a hand, cutting off further protest "No, I know that is not an option now."

"I do not wish to anger you, father," Thor said slowly, "But I will not have my lifemate chosen for me."

"Not long ago," Odin pointed out gently, "you would not have cared."

_I certainly would have if you'd tried to bond Sif and I. _Thor thought, but did not speak it. He was fond of Sif, but would be the first to admit that he saw her less as a woman and more like, well, a man.

"When you first returned and told me of this Jane Foster I will admit… I believed your interest in here was a mere infatuation that would wither and fade with time." Odin sipped from his goblet thoughtfully.

"And now?" Thor asked, "What do you believe?"

"That you love her." Odin smirked, "And that you would willingly defy me in order to keep her."

"I do, and I will… if necessary. It is not my wish to cause discord between us, but I will have none but Jane as my queen." He pushed desperately at his mounting temper, reminding himself again at the need for control.

"She is mortal."

"Then I shall find a way to make her as we are." There were ways. He knew that there were ways, and he had given Sif charge over a small staff of scribes and the task of discovering those methods.

"It is a difficult thing you desire, my son. To give immortality to a being that is, by nature, transitory..."

"Whatever I must do, I will do it."

Odin studied him silently for a long, tense moment and stated, "I do not disapprove of her. In fact, your mother and I are eager to meet her."

"You know the means by which I could give her the powers of an Asgardian?"

"I do," Odin replied, "But we will not speak of it now."

They fell silent. Odin stared hard into the deep red liquid in his chalice. A frisson of apprehension passed over Thor as he observed his father, remembering the look on his face the night of his exile, the wear and worry.

"Father, I cannot help but feel that there is something you are not telling me."

Odin's eye closed, his brow furrowed and the apprehension that Thor felt ran a chill down his spine. When Odin finally spoke, it was with a measured sort of care that was almost more alarming than his words. "Frigga has had a vision… one… we are uncertain how to interpret."

"Mother has not had a vision in many years. Why now?"

"We do not know. She did not foresee Loki's betrayal. Perhaps he was blocking them somehow, as he did Heimdall's sight."

"What does she see?" Thor shifted, one hand resting briefly on Mjolnir. His mother's visions were nothing to ignore. They had predicted attacks on Asgard, treason, and a variety of other things. When they had simply stopped, it had caused no alarm. As if everyone just believed that there was no need for them anymore.

"She sees a room made of metal and stone and you standing before the machine that will soon take you to Midgard. In the center of the machine's eye hangs a man. She cannot see his features in the shadows, but there is the outline of a wound at his temple. In the vision she sees a flock of crows gathering at his feet. The only sound she can hear is a heartbeat, erratic, fading."

"Have I killed this man?" Thor asked, and wondered what on earth would motivate him into stringing someone up from Jane's bifrost.

"She does not believe so… it felt to her as though you were unaware of him. She sees you searching for something, shouting. You walked through the birds as though they did not exit to you. It is likely that this man connects to you through Jane."

"The connection must be through the machine or the building in which it is contained. To connect to me, would it not have to be someone closer to her? Erik has been apart from Jane for nearly a year… the male could be Stark or Coulson, or even her former suitor."

"Possibilities," Odin nodded, "or he could be no one specific and merely a symbol of death. Frigga's visions are always accurate, but rarely clear."

"Clear enough," Thor murmured, "to warn that death will shortly follow my return."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Comments<strong>

Wow, didn't mean to take so long with this chapter. I find that writing for Odin is very difficult. Mostly because, being of the female persuasion, I'm not precisely an expert on how father/son talks would go. Especially if the father is Odin talking to his son about that mortal girlfriend of his.

A big thanks to **MaggieTheMae **and **BellaCullen1789** who have offered to do translations for him (I'll be pestering you both soon ^_^) And to everyone who has provided the name of the town Jane is in and/or translation websites. I appreciate it a lot.

This chapter was, again, mostly for filler. I felt that I couldn't just bring Thor back without a few shots of him in Asgard before he returns. I thought it was very interesting that Frigga is supposed to be somewhat psychic, but doesn't see what Loki is planning.

And, yes, I will be touching on the matter of both Jane and Darcy's mortality eventually.

**Update: **_Thanks to my beta Lscaf. Only grammar edits to this chapter. _


	6. Final Preparations

**Chapter 6**: Final Preparations

* * *

><p>"Yeah, Dad, I know. Well, I'm sure he's working a lot and when he isn't working, he's probably sleeping. You know Erik, he when he gets caught up in a project it's like nothing else exists." Jane sighed looked at her watch and gave Darcy an exasperated expression. "No, I don't know what he's working on. No, I- It's the <em>government, <em>Dad, they don't tell anyone anything."

Cradling the pone in the crook of her shoulder, she ignored the slight twinge in her arm as she restlessly rearranged the hodgepodge collection of books and folders piled on her end of the work table. She had meant to clear the mess up the night before, but had ended up falling asleep on it instead. The soft sound of muffled laughter distracted her from the phone, and Jane glanced over at the pair sequestered across from her.

Stark leaned over Darcy's laptop (not a good sign) and the conspiratorial snickers emanating from the pair were a clear warning that adult supervision was needed.

"What makes you think I know any more than you do? Well I don't. No. I said no! Because Nick Fury scares me, that's why. Well, _you _try asking him like that and let me know where it gets you."

Jane didn't understand why Erik, a man more like a father to her than the man speaking to her now, had suddenly become like a ghost. True, he did get caught up in his projects… but never like this; neglecting his friends and hobbies and family. Whenever she did get a call it was always short and Erik always sounded strange and exhausted.

It frustrated Jane that Fury was working him so hard on this mysterious project, especially given Erik's age. True, he was hale and hearty at sixty-two, and sure he was spry for his age, but it just wasn't _healthy_. Neither was it fair for him to nag her about working herself into the ground and then go do it himself.

If only she could keep him on the phone long enough to pester him about it.

Thor's absence had made sense; his brother had tried to kill him. There was really no question that he would need to return in order to remove a homicidal maniac from the throne. It made sense, it was logical.

Erik's sudden absence didn't.

She missed him. She missed talking with him, bouncing ideas off of him, reminiscing with him. She missed his teasing, his exasperation with her, she even missed his constant mothering. In all the time Jane had known him, Erik had never been so involved in a project that he had neglected _her. _

His current inattention reminded her painfully of those long, silent days after her mother's funeral. When all her father did was sleep and eat and work and not a word passed between them. Erik had become the bridge between father and daughter, allowing them to communicate with a modicum of civility. Eventually he had simply assumed the role of mentor and parent, something she had desperately needed and her own father was incapable of providing.

Now that bridge was broken, or lost, and she was being forced to deal with her progenitor on her own. Not something she was very good at.

"Look, I'll pass your message on to him the next time he calls but he's really not talking to me much either. Yeah, I'll do that. Dad, I really am late for a meeting… Yes, I will. Okay, you too. Bye."

She sighed, sliding the cell phone shut with a click and moving to stuff it into her pocket. Jane couldn't remember the last time that her father had told her he loved her, or the last time she'd said such to him. They had a cordial, politely distant relationship that did not grow and did not recede. Her father didn't listen, no matter what she said (something she had tested often as a teenager and was consistently proven right), he judged harshly and demanded perfection in everything.

Jane had long accepted that they would never have the kind of relationship that she had with Erik. It was something that, through time, had just become a fact. She was a disappointment, and always would be.

Maybe that's why she and Darcy got along so well. They both came from absent mothers and demanding fathers. Though Darcy was less inclined to talk about the family she had estranged herself from, Jane had gathered enough to know they were in similar circumstances.

"Troubles, Darling?" Stark asked his eyes intent on the computer screen. His aptitude for multitasking was irritating, if useful.

"I remember when I couldn't keep him on the phone for five minutes, now he won't leave me alone." She shrugged, trying to dismiss the conversation and her worry for Erik all in one gesture. She couldn't dwell on it today, not with all they needed to get done. "You two aren't doing something awful to Coulson's facebook page again, are you?"

"No!" Darcy and Stark answered in unison, one more convincingly than the other who had abruptly averted her eyes from Jane.

"Of course not." Jane shook her head and decided that she was too tired to tackle that one. It was late, and tomorrow was going to be a full day. They were _supposed_ to be taking one last look at the data before the test tomorrow. She had some hope of getting everything done relatively early so that she could sleep in her own bed and wake up in the morning with enough time to panic over what to wear.

Then, of course, her father had chosen to honor his only child with a phone call, and had refused to listen when she'd said she was busy and couldn't talk. She had struggled with herself against hanging up on him, but had eventually decided that bearing the argument was the easiest road in the long run. She was yet unwilling to admit that her decision had as much to do with the fact that, sometimes, any contact with her father was better than no contact at all.

And now her assistant and boss were quite distracted with whatever nefarious scheme they had in the making.

Her life really sucked sometimes.

Jane sank down into her chair and let her head fall back, hands going limp at her sides. The beginning of the weeks had been deceptively smooth; there had been no major incidents at the Portal site and she'd had to suffer only one mercifully short (thank you, Darcy) visit from her ex. She had a feeling it was too good to be true, a feeling that had proven right when Pepper had suddenly taken herself off to London to see about a wedding dress from some hotshot designer.

The famed Ms. Pepper Potts had been Jane's biggest asset since the project's start, leaving no question in her mind as to exactly how the woman had managed to snag the planet's biggest playboy. Somehow Pepper managed the tornado of chaos that was her fiancée, minimized the trouble he gleefully led Jane's own wayward assistant into, and even found the time to help Darcy study for an upcoming test.

She was so efficient it was almost frightening and, at the same time, it was a balm to Jane's fraying nerves to have another viable adult around. Especially one so well equipped to handle Stark's continuously changing moods.

Really she shouldn't be upset at _Pepper_ for the sudden departure; anyway, it was entirely _Tony's _fault. He had practically thrown his bride-to-be onto the plane two freaking _days_ before they opened the Stargate and, hopefully, brought Thor through.

And damn him again for starting Darcy on this whole Stargate nonsense.

Jane actually wasn't completely sure if Stark's actions were entirely honest. On the one hand, she had over heard him tell Pepper (who hadn't been exactly eager to leave them at this crucial time) that _one_ of them had to make time for wedding plans and as that person couldn't be Ironman, it had to be Pepper. It made sense since the woman had practically cooed over the dress when she'd seen it in one of her magazines, and Stark seemed particularly inclined that Pepper should have anything and everything she wanted.

On the other hand, it was entirely possible that Stark just wanted to get his fiancée away from the sexy hunk of Norse deity that was potentially arriving tomorrow. _That_ theory made as much sense as the first, if not more so. Stark would have been shown the footage from the night that Thor had singlehandedly stormed the Hammer Site and been informed that he had been at the time, somewhat figuratively speaking, powerless and mortal.

Sweet gesture or territorial male instinct? One she couldn't be annoyed with, the other she couldn't prove.

Jane glanced at her side when Stark suddenly slid into the chair beside hers, legs straddling the chair back as his hands fiddled constantly with his high-tech cell phone, the glow of it reflecting off his eyes. He only acknowledged her to ask what she wanted from the take-away restaurant across town.

Food. When had she last eaten? She couldn't honestly remember.

"So," Stark said, when the food order had been placed and Darcy had been deployed to pick it up. He slipped the phone into his pocket and folded his arms casually across the top of the chair, eyes intent and mildly amused. "About this Donald character…"

"Ugh! I'm going to kill Darcy." She groaned, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment. "Kill her 'till she's dead."

"Come on, Jane, it's not like your security detail isn't aware of him. I think Coulson's run five background checks on him. The good news is that he most likely _isn't_ a spy trying to get top secret government information out of you."

Jane laughed. "And the bad news?"

"Well…" Stark began, gesturing with his usual enthusiasm "If he _isn't _a spy, then he's just a pushy asshole that doesn't know when to take a hint."

"Tell me something I don't know," She snorted, letting her head fall back again. She thought she should be more embarrassed about having this sort of conversation with her boss, but she felt strangely comfortable with Tony. He had become a friend, as had Pepper, and it didn't seem at all odd to have his conversation with him. "It's been three years; I don't know why he's acting like this now. Coulson isn't planning on having some of his men… intervene is he? Because having Donald suddenly confronted by men in black with guns… definitely _not_ how I would like the situation handled."

"SHIELD's priority at this time is keeping things low-key. Coulson isn't going to send agents after your ex unless he threatens you or becomes violent."

"Thank God." She muttered, at least someone had sense.

She glanced at Stark when he shifted again, gripping the top of the chair as though he were about to stand. She was surprised to see that he looked… annoyed. It was odd, as so few things seemed to dislodge him from the care-free, hyperactive man she had come to know. Seriousness for him was quick and fleeting unless it came either to Pepper or his duties as Ironman.

So it was very strange to see him regarding her with such focused attention and, yes, annoyance.

"Have you told him to back off, Jane?"

"No." She sneered, "I like being hounded by a guy I dumped three years ago, it's fun. Of course I've told him to back off, he's just… I don't know."

"Obsessive."

"I guess."

"Look, SHIELD may have to act with discretion but _I _have a great deal more freedom. As a concerned friend as well as your boss, it is much less conspicuous for me to step in and have a word with the good Dr. Blake, which I would be very glad to do if you would like." Stark rocked back on the legs of the chair, appraising her, then set it down with a thump and added as an afterthought, "And… if I _happened_ to be, you know, in the Ironman suit when I ran into him… just coincidentally…"

Jane laughed, trying to imagine Donald's face if he were to open his front door and find Ironman in full battle suit standing there.

"I appreciate the offer but I don't want to get you involved. He doesn't know that I work for STARK Industries, let alone that I work closely with you. I think it would just cause more problems than it would fix."

He appraised her for a long, silent moment, and suddenly grinned. "You want Thor to take care of it for you, don't you?"

"No!" She denied a little too quickly, "That's not it at all."

"Hey, I understand." Tony lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. "So about this data we're supposed to go over."

* * *

><p>Darcy sat in a green plastic chair outside a small, family-owned restaurant, playing idly with the end of her scarf. She knew that Stark had sent the kid away so that the grownups could talk. It should have bothered her more than it did, but she all she felt was relief. Jane might be clueless as to the… scope of her Ex's behavior, but Stark was not.<p>

She'd refuse his help, of course, because she was stubborn and prideful and she just didn't _see_ it. So she would make excuses, pass it off as a phase or something, and try to get him to leave it alone. Of course, Stark was probably only bringing it up now because, barring spontaneous explosions, Thor would be back on Earth as early as tomorrow.

While it might raise some questions for government agents to become suddenly involved in Jane's personal life; Thor was a different matter. There was very little anyone, especially Jane, could do to prevent him from protecting his territory and Darcy was just waiting for the opportunity to fill him in on all that had happened since the Hangar's explosion.

By noon tomorrow, Darcy thought, she would have significantly less to worry about. Thor would be home, Jane would stop working herself into a coma, and she'd finally be able to spend some time _away _from the hodgepodge collection of undersexed nerds she had been almost constantly surrounded with for months on end.

Unfortunately it probably meant that Stark would be making his way home, and that was a real shame since he seemed to be the only one around with a sense of humor. She'd have no one to hide behind when she slipped salt into Coulson's coffee cup, or help her hide all of Jane's notes so that the workaholic was forced to take a break.

It wasn't all bad, she guessed that he'd be back eventually what with him supposed to be working with Thor, and Pepper had given both Darcy and Jane wedding invitations. Thor made for good entertainment, and taking him to buy clothes was bound to be an unforgettable, not to mention mouthwatering, experience.

It was a shame that he would be coming alone, she'd have liked to get to know his companions better. The warrior chick and Bruce Lee wannabe were a little scary, sure, but the tubby one with the beard had looked like he'd be a lot of fun to hang around. The blond one had been… interesting too. Sexy as all hell sure (and he knew it too), but there had been something else about him, something in his eyes that she had liked.

Well, she probably wasn't his type anyway.

"Order for Lewis?"

Darcy's head snapped up and she stumbled out of the chair to take the bags and check that everything was there. She could feel her cheeks burn as she wondered how many times the waitress had called her name before she had heard. It was easy to laugh at herself slid through the gravel parking lot to Jane's much abused van and climbed in, setting the food on the seat beside hers and stuffing the key into the ignition.

But she didn't start the engine. Instead she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat. She wasn't sure what would happen tomorrow. She was terrified to think that the Prankster, who had been silent since the explosion, would turn up again with an explosive that was bigger and badder than the last one. She was also afraid to think about what it would do to Jane if all her fears proved true, that Thor had changed his mind about returning.

Or what it would do to her.

It was funny to think about, but that morning when he had made breakfast with Jane and it had just been the four of them sitting together, talking and laughing… it had seemed like they were family. She had felt, for the first time in ages, like she belonged somewhere, like she was home. Darcy hadn't spoken to anyone in her family in over two years, let alone been part of them, and the moment had been precious to her.

Though he had only been with them for a few days, Darcy had seen Thor bring something out in her boss and best friend that she hadn't really known was there. It was like, for the first time, Jane started to look _at_ people, instead of _through _them, to want something for herself instead of just research for the sake of science.

Well, she laughed and reached for the key again, there was nothing she could do but get food to the hungry scientists. Tomorrow would come soon enough. The engine started easily but before Darcy pulled out she was startled to watch a familiar figure stride across the gravel parking lot to the restaurant. Now where had he come from and what was he doing in Puente Antiguo this late at night? Oh… so that was how he caught Jane when Darcy wasn't around; he just stayed the night and spied on them.

"You just wait, Dr. Creepoid." She muttered, "You and I are going to have words tomorrow."

Thor and the good doctor would have to cross paths sometime, but that didn't mean it had to be on the day he arrived back. Darcy could stall that for a while, now that she knew his creepy-stalker method. There was absolutely no reason why he should rain on Jane and Thor's reunion.

Resolute in her plan, Darcy threw the van into reverse as soon as Dr. Blake had disappeared into the restaurant and slipped onto the nearly empty street. Jane didn't need to know what she'd seen. Stark didn't either, actually. It wouldn't be hard to figure out what room he was staying at in the town's _one_ hotel.

She made it back to the converted auto shop and walked directly into a heated debate between her boss and her boss's boss;

"Come on, _Stjerne port_ is a perfect name! Its Norwegian and it sounds impressive."

"You think I don't know that means Star gate, but you're _wrong_."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Comments<strong>

Ah, it is really good to finally get this chapter finished. I do apologize for the wait, but Real Life is hectic and my writing time has been limited.

So I tried to answer some questions that have been brought up about Stark and Coulson's lack of involvement in Jane's situation, as well as bring in a little from Darcy's perspective before Thor's big entrance. I also realized I'd pretty much said nothing about Erik, and considered that I might mention him.

Ah, poor Jane. So much adult supervision needed not enough adults to go around. Yes, Pepper will make an appearance, but I'm not sure just when that will be. Not until after Thor has already returned.

Ah, defective… I mean detective Darcy is on the case.

I've been wanting to do some things from Darcy's perspective for a while and I hope I've done her some justice. I actually had to re write this because I realized that I had been a little to… ah… liberal with information that I don't want known until later.

I hope that the split perspective doesn't bother anyone too badly. I find it distracting and to keep each chapter in one view but I figure it's a good trial run because I can't really figure out how to facilitate Thor's return without a little POV hopping.

**Update: **_Much appreciation to Lscaf for the hard work she's putting in to each chapter. Especially as I'm sending them two to four at a time to play catch-up. _


	7. Terrestrial Constellations

**Author's Comments**: I'm going to do this now, rather than at the end of the chapter for atmospheric reasons. This has been both the most difficult, and the most exciting chapter to write. I know it has been long in coming but perfection takes a great deal of effort. Although the story is far from over, I am so incredibly proud of this chapter. I hope all of you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

For added effect when you get to Thor's perspective, play this song: watch?v=S94sAp_JRAk and listen to it on repeat while you read from Thor's perspective to the end of the chapter. It really inspired the last two parts of the chapter and it's what I wrote it to.

**Update: **_Chapter has been beta'd and many corrections made. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7:<strong> Terrestrial Constellations

Nervous excitement stifled the halls of the portal base in nearly tangible streams. Scientists in pristine white lab coats scurried around heavily armed S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel, voices rising steadily to match the level of tension. In fifteen minutes the base would be locked down, no one in or out until after the success or failure of the portal_. _

Jane ran through the hallways dodging around, under and even over her colleagues along the route to the _SFERB _Hangar (she had, eventually, convinced Stark that they had to keep Einstein's name in the title if they were going to give it a ridiculously long name). She skidded to a halt, snagging the arm of a passing lab-tech and demanded whether or not he had seen her assistant. At the first sign of a negative answer she released him and sped away, nearly running over Agent Coulson.

Five minutes and a half-dozen near collisions later, Jane stumbled through the door of the portal hangar. The room was, to her great dismay, Darcy-less. However, she did see Stark standing in full Ironman regalia by the Control Room door. Beside him stood a very tall man in formfitting red, white and blue.

She had only met Steve Rogers a few days before and hadn't had much time to talk with him informally. She openly admitted that she was a little awed by the legend-made-flesh, especially when he stood fully-costumed with _the _shield perched securely on his back. It was a little like seeing Thor in his armor for the first time; impressive, certainly, but also intimidating.

"Is something wrong, Miss Foster?" the Captain asked when she tentatively approached. She had been very surprised to discover just how sweet a person he was. Despite what she had heard from others who had met him, Jane had expected a person with his looks and abilities to be, well, a lot more like Tony Stark than not. Instead of being an obnoxious ass, however, she found that Steve was polite, considerate and approachable.

He was calm where Stark was abrasive and set people at ease where Stark put them on edge. What she liked most about him, however, was that he was so incredibly dorky; a fact which he seemed both aware of and quite comfortable with.

Unlike many of the people she worked with and around, Steve had not made her feel embarrassed or awkward about her motivations in the project. He had expressed sympathy rather than leering, unsubtle innuendo. In some ways he was like Pepper Potts, his presence being a small port of sanity amid all the chaos she was surrounded in. She wished he had shown up weeks ago.

"I'm not sure." She frowned, "Have either of you seen Darcy?"

"Wasn't she riding in with you today?" Tony asked.

"She was supposed to, but this morning she said that she had some errand or something to take care of and would meet me here. I can't find her anywhere and they're shutting the place down in ten minutes. I'm starting to worry maybe… something happened."

She didn't need to say that the prankster may have returned. Things had been peaceful since the explosion and they had all anticipated _something _happening today, which was exactly why both Captain America and Ironman were present and geared up. Jane had expected something more spectacular than the explosion; she hadn't thought that he or she would do something to Darcy.

"I'm sure she's just fine, Miss Foster." Steve said at the same time as Stark asked, "What errand?"

"She didn't say what it was. Darcy knows what time they're shutting the place down; flaky as she is… she should have been here way before now." Jane's hands involuntarily wrung together. Steve patted her shoulder consolingly, though he didn't offer empty platitudes. His face, when she finally looked up at him, was perfectly calm, but there was a grim set to his mouth the told her that his thoughts were coinciding with hers.

Except that it didn't make any sense to do something to Darcy _outside_ the base. Not without some clue or indication that she was in danger. Without that, Coulson would just assume that she was late, as she had been many times in the past. He would lock the place up and give the green light without a second thought.

Tony's faceplate slid down and locked into place abruptly, startling Jane. This was possibly only the second time she had seen him in his armor, and it was very nearly surreal. Of course she _knew_ he was Ironman, everyone did, but he was so… un-hero-like it was easy to forget. "Jarvis," he said aloud and his voice, strange and mechanical, rang with and out-of-character seriousness that surprised her. "Locate Darcy Lewis."

"Your suit magically locates people now?"

"Cell phone signal."

"Oh, right. What if she turned it off or it got broken or something?"

He snorted, and while she couldn't see his expression from behind the mask, she had a pretty good idea what it was; "The phones you and Darcy were issued when you became my employees are equipped with some special functions; among them being specialized GPS chips."

Jane ignored Steve's questioning look to ask, "What's special about them, exactly?"

"Found her. She's just pulled in." The faceplate slid up and Tony assured the captain that he would explain GPS later. To Jane he said, "They're highly sensitive tracking devices, Jane. They transmit constantly so, even if your phone is off, I can locate it. We'll say, while we're on the subject, that those phones are very difficult to break."

"I suppose I should have expected it." She said, unhappy and a little unnerved.

"Hey, Pepper has to carry two of them; one in her watch and one in her phone. It's a precaution."

"It's creepy" Jane stated, "but… in a sweet sort of away."

"Yeah, Pepper said pretty much the same thing. So, GPS…" He turned to Steve and began a detailed explanation about the Global Positioning System that would no doubt be very confusing. Steve had made a great deal of progress in adjusting to the here and now after his eighty-something years of slumber, but Stark's way of imparting information was never as clear as he seemed to think it was.

Stamping down impatience, she tugged at her lab coat and took a casual glance down at the outfit Darcy had spent almost two hours helping her put together the night before. Fashion wasn't exactly Jane's forte. She had been a gawky and shy teenager, the stereotypical geek, targeted by bullies and repelled by all things peppy. Even now she had an allergic reaction to fashion magazines.

Jane preferred to dress for comfort rather than style. If she left the house in clothing that matched it was usually an accident. She had all but given up on finding something respectable when Darcy had accidently tipped over a box resting forgotten in the back of her closet. Skirts and blouses had spilled over onto the floor in neatly folded disarray.

She stood now in her nicest jeans and a pinstriped button-up blouse in deep blue. She had (despite Darcy's protests) rolled the sleeves up to her elbows, but conceded to the necklace and earrings that Darcy had located deep within the box's seemingly bottomless depths. She looked great, but she felt terribly conspicuous. It wasn't as though her involvement (if one kiss could be called that) with Thor wasn't known by practically _everyone_ she worked with.

"Made it!" Darcy slid on booted feet through the open door of the hangar, startling Jane out of the panic attack that had been forming in the pit of her stomach. The young woman's face was oddly pale for someone so out of breath. She was still wearing her jacket and watchman's cap, as well as the loose-knit scarf that had been a birthday present from some school mate or another earlier that year.

"Where were you?" Jane demanded, struggling to keep her temper in check. She was one giant ball of nerves and it wouldn't be fair to take all of her frustrations out on Darcy… again.

"School thing," Her assistant gasped, "With everything going on I totally forgot about it. I'm here now so don't be mad, okay?"

"Did you hit someone on the way over?" Captain Rogers stepped past Jane and very gently took Darcy's hand and brought it up to examine. The knuckles of her right hand were bruised and swollen. Several raw abrasions split skin that was very slightly stained with dried blood. Jane might have been more alarmed at the injury if she had not been so amused by the splash of bright red that was currently spreading across Darcy's porcelain features.

"Oh, um, I-it was an accident."

"You accidentally hit someone?" Steve smiled, amused and concerned all at once.

"No, I mean yes… I mean I didn't hit some_one_. I hit some_thing_. Accidentally."

Jane laughed softly, feeling her anger dissipate with her assistant's embarrassment. It was always entertaining when her young friend was left speechless and stammering. She glanced at Stark to see if he was enjoying the show and was startled to see him scrutinizing the pair with an almost frightening intensity. He didn't look amused at all, he looked… angry? No, not quite that. Upset, perhaps, but it wasn't anger. Worry, then? Or fear?

"Hey," She murmured quietly, nudging him with her elbow until he looked at her, "I don't think that Steve is interested in Darcy that way, so you can put the overprotective big-brother face away."

Stark laughed, but the sound had a hollow to it that confused her. "No, that's not… I wasn't… Oh look, there's Fury."

Jane watched him walk away, confused and a little worried. Behind her she could hear Steve giving Darcy a quick boxing lesson. "The next time you accidentally hit something, keep your wrist straight like this…"

Chaos, she thought, her life was nothing but chaos.

* * *

><p>The early evening air was crisp and refreshing; the thunder of racing hooves a soothing melody. Thor took everything in as the large group made their way across the remnants of the bridge, the sweet scent of the air, the sound of rushing water. The musical lit of his mother's voice, the rumble of his father's laughter. The sights, scents, and sounds of his home.<p>

He could not ask for a better farewell than this.

They reined the horses in a set distance from the approximate area where Jane's Bifröst would appear and dismounted. Thor couldn't help a smile as he watched his father lift his mother down from his horse as though she were a child, and promised himself that he and Jane would go riding someday.

"It is time, my prince." Heimdall stepped into place beside him, "They prepare to open the gate now."

Thor nodded silently and turned to look at his family; at his parents, at Sif and Hogun, Volstagg and Fandral. The parents who had raised him with love and patience, the companions that had risked everything to help him, people that he could never hope to deserve. He had waited two years for this moment and, now, he had no idea what to say to the ones he was going to leave behind. It was the only thing that he could not prepare for.

His eyes fell on Sif and a thousand memories flooded his mind. He saw Sif as a little child, stubborn, loud, and as eager to fight as he was. He saw Sif the adolescent, who shunned femininity as though it were a disease and trained herself doggedly with her father's weapons. Finally he saw Sif the woman; as much a lady as was his mother and a warrior to her very core. Never afraid to tell him when he was an idiot, yet always willing to follow him into battle.

"My childhood friend," he said quietly, taking her hands and holding them tightly, "My sister in arms. You are more loyal, more dedicated a friend than any of us deserves and I do not think I will ever be able to find the words to express my gratitude to you."

"Try not to do something stupid. I won't be around to save you." She replied softly, blinking away tears. He thought of the small, boyish little girl that he had met so long ago, and of the woman who he had come to respect; to proud to cry, even now.

"I am proud to call you as my friend, Lady Sif. We will see one another again." He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

He stepped to Hogun, who bowed slightly at the waist. His friend was not, and had never been, a man of many words. What he said was always concise and to the point. He was fearless, tireless, and utterly loyal. His keen observations, insights, and talent for stealth had made him the best man to aid his father in their search for Loki's followers.

When he straightened he took something from his belt and offered it to Thor. Resting on Hogun's upturned hands was a very, very small dagger. Only about four inches from hilt to blade tip and made from translucent blue crystal, the item was exquisitely crafted. The hilt was bound with black leather and there was a small hole in the pommel where a bit of braided leather cord had been threaded through and knotted.

"A gift," Hogun said, "For your lady; to be worn around her neck. Once bonded to her, the blade will never pierce her skin and will always find its way back to her hand." He paused and, looking a little embarrassed, "For the protection of my future queen."

Deeply touched, Thor took the item carefully and held it to the light. The gift was wholly unexpected and yet he knew it had to have taken weeks, probably months, to design and craft.

Quiet as he was, Hogun never seemed to have anything to say about Thor's time on Midgard, or his attachment to a mortal woman. He had been silent when Thor had, eventually, spoken of Jane's injury and subsequent reappearance of her former suitor. Only once had he ever asked after the welfare of the humans they had met during their very brief time on earth.

"I am honored." Thor said finally, bowing "Thank you, my friend." There would be no more words between them on the matter, and there needn't be. The blade had said everything already, and the fact that Hogun accepted Thor's choice of lifemate meant more to him than any gift. Hogun bowed again, and stepped back.

Volstagg beamed grandly at him, "We will miss you at the Winter Festival. I shall drink a barrel of mead in your honor."

Thor laughed. He would miss Volstagg's unwavering cheerfulness and childlike excitement. No matter where they went or what they did, the warrior always managed to keep the brightest possible outlook on life. He was content so long as the wine flowed and the food was plentiful. He would indeed think to toast the absent prince at the Winter Festival, and would probably drink several barrels of mead in the process.

"It has been a privilege to have you fight at my side, my friend."

Volstagg the Mighty, for once, seemed at a loss for words. Then he smiled, clasped Thor's shoulders and gave him a little shake, "I have never been more proud to call you my friend, Thor." Releasing the prince, he winked, "Give your lady a kiss from me, eh?"

Fandral stood, last in his line of warriors.

"_I've_ no gift for you." The warrior stated. Arms folded across his breastplate, he regarded Thor with amusement rather than regret. His gray-blue eyes danced with mirth, his posture utterly at ease. "I do, however, have a request."

"Ask for anything, if it is within my power I will grant it."

"Never forget how fortunate you are to have found your soulmate. Do not take that love for granted. Cherish every moment you have with her."

The only one among his companions to ever have fallen in love, Fandral had best understood Thor's need to return to Midgard as soon as possible. It was not until that moment that Thor realized that however much time had passed; Fandral had not forgotten Scribe Kelda.

He nodded once, studying his friend with a newfound sight. "You have my word."

"Look after yourself, old friend." He grinned, clasped Thor's arm briefly.

"And you as well."

Fandral placed his hand over the hilt of his sword and bowed deeply. Thor bowed in return and then turned and moved swiftly to where the Allfather and Queen of Asgard stood.

Queen Frigga stood in a resplendent gown of dusky bronze, her hair caught up in a glittering net and a soft smile gracing her face. Her son was uncertain whether it was his imminent departure that had put that troubled look in her eyes, or if it was the vision that had occurred twice more since Jane had begun construction on her second bifröst. Either way, the Queen looked tired and sad, and it distressed him. The grief of Loki's betrayal and death were still so very fresh, and yet here he was about to subject his mother to the loss (however temporary) of another child.

"Mother, I-"

The Queen shook her head and reached up to cup his face in her hands, "Do not worry for me, Thor. Right now, Midgard is where you belong. You are doing _exactly_ as you should." She embraced him tightly, "I love you, my boy."

"I will make you proud, Mother." he whispered,returning her embrace.

Odin's hand fell heavily on his shoulder as he turned from Frigga and the two walked side-by-side to the edge of the Rainbow Bridge. The city rose up in the distance; vast and alight with color. The blue waters far below crashed against the rocks on the way to the Void and, far above, the stars of his home blazed brightly.

"You've spoken with your friends and your mother," Odin said "Now tell me… knowing that how deeply you will be missed, knowing that the death in your mother's vision will be catalyzed by your return, will you still go to Midgard?"

"I gave Jane my word that I would come back for her," He grinned, glanced at his father, "A wise man once told me that a king is nothing without his word."

The All Father's face creased slowly into a smile, "Good." was all he said, "Good."

"The Gate opens." Heimdall called, which was quickly followed by a collection of gasps as the air between the markers that he and Heimdall had set up began to shimmer and swirl. A multitude of colors swam in empty space, slowly forming the image of a large, gray room. Thor's breath caught, and he took two slow steps forward.

"Jane…" He whispered. She was there, just beyond the clear glass panel of the viewing room, standing next to Darcy and what he assumed was the Iron Warrior. Their eyes met and, suddenly, everything in Thor's world became right again.

* * *

><p>The Control Room was crowded and resonant with over two dozen voices all talking at once; filled to bursting with an intense, frantic sort of energy that came from too many anxious people crammed into too small a space. At the front row of terminals an assortment of men and women called out the steps to open the gate, to the left and right techs read out the status and climate of the room beyond and the readout of the power supply and power stabilizer.<p>

Ironman stood at her right, monitoring all systems from behind his faceplate, occasionally calling out instructions or comments. Darcy had taken up residence on her left arm, looping both her hands through and hugging it like a stuffed toy. Jane didn't mind at all, and was ardently grateful for the contact. Actually, she didn't think it was possible to be more thankful for the younger woman's presence. It was the only thing that was keeping her from hyperventilating.

"This is it…" she whispered, "What if he isn't there?"

"He'll be there," Darcy replied.

"Maybe it's not too late to go and hide in the bathroom. You can just fill me in on what happens after I'm done having a nervous breakdown."

"Not a chance." The brunet laughed, holding Jane's arm tighter "This is going to be epic and I'm not letting you miss it."

The lights dimmed inside the hangar, and Jane wondered if that was an effect of the Portal or if Stark had wired that in somehow for dramatic effect. On the ring's outer rim, the first of ten nodes flickered to life and Jane felt her stomach drop away, her breath catch hard in her throat. _Stage one clear, nine to go._

When the third node lit up the air pressure inside the hangar increased. Visible currents of electricity began to form between the lit nodes, and the space within the portal ring, or the 'eye', began to darken and undulate like water. They had done a few partial tests, enough to get a good idea that things would work, but this was beyond anything she could have imagined.

"Hey, Jane…" Darcy whispered, hands tightening where they gripped her arm and her gaze, intent and unusually serious, met Jane's in the dim light "Thank you. Even though I know I was the only applicant, and you didn't have much of a choice at the time, I'm really glad you hired me. So… thank you."

Jane smiled, covering one of Darcy's hands with her own, "I'm glad that you applied. I'm really, really glad that you applied."

Node seven lit up and Jane felt a chill go up her spine, she clutched at Darcy's hand as tightly as she could to stifle the tremors that were beginning to overtake her body. She didn't notice how Steve took his shield from his back and stepped closer to Darcy's side, or register Stark's presence stepping closer to her back. All her senses were focused only on the Eye, and even all the noise in the small room had dimmed.

The darkened space in the portal ping was beginning to pulse with bright color; blue and red, orange and violet, gold and dazzling emerald green all twisting together, moving like an aurora. It was possibly the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. For the rest of her life she would never forget the colors, more vivid and brilliant than any she had ever seen, of her own personal northern lights.

"Node nine activated!"

The kaleidoscope of color began to take on vague shapes; distorted and confusing, like a photograph that's badly out of focus. For a moment she just stared at the image and then a jolt of realization swept through her as she recognized what the form at the center of the eye, the one surrounded by billowing crimson, _had_ to be.

In an instant, the image clarified. In some distant part of her mind she knew that node ten must have activated and the portal was running at full power. Her breath quickened, her heart raced frantically, and her world fell into utter silence.

Thor stood on a crystal, rainbow hued bridged; his crimson cloak furling around him and Mjölnir hanging at his side. Thor stood at the threshold of her world, looked straight into her eyes, and smiled. He glanced to his right, and nodded at a tall man in elaborate golden armor, then his eyes found hers again and he stepped forward.

One hand reached out and touched the surface of the gateway. It wavered under his touch, rings fanning out from his hand like the ripples on a still pond. She watched, heart in her throat, as the image began to surge and convulse wildly, blurring until it was impossible to decipher. The prismatic mass within the eye bulged suddenly inward, split apart, and melted aside to reveal an outstretched hand.

Jane wished desperately to be able to rush out of the Control Room and cling to the hand, to pull the rest of the body through but Stark, as though sensing her intention, had a firm grip on her shoulder. The arm was revealed slowly, silvery armor gleaming in the dim light. _You're almost there._ She thought, _Thor, please, you're almost there_.

The eye surged again and again until finally a booted foot broke through, followed closely by a second hand. Abruptly, Darcy pulled away from her side and darted past Steve and Fury, seized the microphone for the PA system, flipped the switch and shouted into it.

"Keep fighting, Thor! You're almost through! Keep going!" Steve caught her arm and pulled her back, protesting the entire way. "If you're not going to go out there and help him, the least you can do is let us cheer him on!"

"The power is spiking!" a tech shouted, "I don't think we can keep it open much longer."

"Boost power to the stabilizer, now!"

"But sir-"

"That damn thing stays open until he comes through or it blows us all to hell!" Ironman didn't give the tech time to reply; he simply seized the shoulder of his white lab coat with one hand, hauled him out of the chair, shoved him aside and bent over the computer terminal. His hands flew over the keys faster than Jane thought was possible in the confines of the suit, "I think it's time you gave good ol' Thor a hand, don't you, Captain?"

"This room is sealed until the Portal is powered down" Coulson protested, his normally impassive face becoming anxious.

"Ah, Natasha darling," Stark said, focus never leaving the computer in front of him. "Hotwire the door for us, please."

The somber woman, whom Jane had exchanged only a few words with and (and was, frankly, a little intimidated by) moved instantly toward a panel near the door and pried it off, exposing a nest of multicolored wires, circuits, and blinking lights.

Seconds ticked by like hours as Ironman worked at the computer terminal, snapping out commands and curses, as Natasha pulled and tugged at the wires in the wall. In the hangar, Thor continued to struggle. There had been no way to predict how difficult the crossing would be. If Thor was struggling this hard against whatever it was that had formed within the eye of the portal, it was very much doubtful that any human would be able to pass through.

"It's open!" Natasha shouted and jumped aside as Steve hurled himself through, knocking the door back on its hinges so hard that it bounced back shut with a shoulder-shaped dent that prevented it from latching again. It hung partially open and, seeing it, Jane realized that she could leave as well. However, before she could more than a few steps her arm was seized roughly by a surprisingly strong Coulson.

"Let go." She struggled against the grip, mind calculating the pros and cons of kicking him as hard as she could in the shin and making a run for it.

"There's nothing you can do to help. You're not strong enough to pull him through, and he might hurt you accidentally."

"I _know _that." She snapped, "I know I can't do anything, but I _have_ to be there." Coulson hesitated glanced behind her at where Fury stood and, with a small nod, released her arm.

Jane wasn't even aware that Darcy had followed her until a second set of hands helped her to shove the damaged, and very heavy, door aside enough to get through. "Still want to go hide in the bathroom?"

"I think it's too late for that!" Jane yelled back, struggling to be heard over the strange, musical hum the portal was giving off. Side by side the two women raced across the concrete floor and Jane was suddenly reminded of a night more than two years before, when they had sat side by side in her junky old van, driving blindly into a mysterious whirlwind, fighting with each other the entire way.

Back then, Darcy had argued that she didn't want to die for six college credits. She hadn't left, however, after tasing a large and very angry man she'd just hit with Jane's car. She hadn't quit after mysterious government agents had stolen all their stuff, including Darcy's own ipod. She hadn't fled town immediately after learning what the Destroyer was and what it was undoubtedly sent to do.

The first to just _accept_ that Thor was exactly who he claimed, Darcy had followed Jane through everything that had happened since his departure. She remained even after Erik had left. When the pranks started, when Jane was hurt and even now she was right there; running blindly into another storm.

The Captain was already there when they arrived at the ramp that led up to the base of the Portal. He had hold of Thor's wrist with both hands and was straining backward, trying to pull him through. He glanced back, saw them, and shouted;

"Stay there, Jane. His grip is tight, even for me! He'd snap your hand like a twig!"

"Less _talking_, more _helping_!" Darcy countered irritably, "Seriously, how stupid do they think we are?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Stark asked as he strode past them and took hold of Thor's other hand. "I really hope this guy is worth it."

"_Less_ talking, _more_ pulling." Steve grunted through clenched teeth. Together the two men pulled, shifting their feet back inch by inch as Thor's arms slid through further. The thrashing, gelatinous mass that formed the gateway contorted inward again this time taking on the distinct shape of a head and shoulders.

Jane grabbed blindly for Darcy, clinging to her arm like a lifeline. Could Thor even _breathe_ through that stuff?

Like before, however, the goop split apart and peeled away, melding into itself. Thor gasped for air, sagging for a moment. Beads of moisture gathered across his breastplate and arms, clumped his hair into damp strings that he had to shake away from his face. His eyes searched the room rapidly and fell on her with an intensity that startled her.

"Jane…" He whispered, so tenderly that heat crept up her face. His lips were almost blue with cold and, for the first time, Jane realized how different the temperature was so close to the open gate. They had registered temperature fluctuations with the old gate, but nothing this extreme.

"_Less flirting, more pulling!"_ Ironman barked, and Thor's gaze snapped to him. His jaw set then, expression going from loving to fiercely determined. Muscles bulged and strained beneath the woven metal over his arms as he pulled unrelentingly against Ironman and Captain America; very nearly pulling them across the metal ramp.

"We don't have a lot of _time_!" Stark warned, adjusting his grip on Thor's wrist. How long had the gate been opened? It seemed like hours, but Tony had predicted that they'd only be able to keep it open for two minutes.

"On three, pull back as hard as you can," Steve commanded "One,"

"I'm _already_ pulling as hard as I can, jackass!"

"_Two-"_

The lights overhead flickered and died. The only light in the hangar now came from the ten nodes on the Portal and the blue arcs of electricity between them. The reverberant humming increased, pulsing almost in the rhythm of a heartbeat.

"_THREE!"_

Ironman and Captain America threw themselves backward, scrabbling against the textured ramp. Thor's torso slid further into the hangar, and he fought savagely against the mire that clung to him like a second skin. Inch by inch, the Portal was losing its prisoner. It's glossy surface mutating constantly with Thor's efforts to get free. A roar burst from between his bared teeth and Jane watched in amazement as the prismatic gel finally broke apart and the three men fairly flew across the ramp and landed in an undignified heap.

One by one the nodes cresting the rim of the Portal flickered and extinguished. The resonant humming ceased and the fluctuating, multicolored mass dissipated.

It took only a moment for the backup power system to kick in and for the emergency lights to flicker on one by one, bathing the hangar in florescent yellow light. Thor was already picking himself up off of his new teammates and striding down the ramp as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened, his gaze locked on Jane.

"Do you see that?" Stark asked, laying on his side and gesturing at the departing figure "Not even a thank you."

The Captain grinned, watching the scene that was beginning to unfold with equal parts envy and amusement, "I think he has more important things on his mind right now."

Unaware that Darcy had sidled off to the side to watch, unaware that the entire Control Room was practically glued to the glass panel in anticipation; Jane could only stare up at the man that towered over her. Somehow she had forgotten how big he was, and how small he made her feel when he stood so close. He reached out and caressed her cheek with one strong, callused hand, traced her bottom lip with his thumb. Her heart stuttered a frenzied beat in her chest and she couldn't find the ability to draw breath.

Without warning he bent to her, slamming his mouth to hers. His hand slid into her hair and cradled the back of her head while the other fisted in the back of her shirt to pull her body roughly against his. Her arms moved by instinct, sliding over her shoulders and clutching fistfuls of his cloak. Her chest ached, her eyes burned behind closed lids.

This couldn't be real. His scent, his taste, the prickle of his beard against her skin; it wasn't real. This was only an illusion; a memory of a kiss shared long ago on a barren desert plain. It was only a dream. She would wake up soon and be alone in her bed. _Don't wake up_, she thought desperately, pressing to him and taking his mouth as ardently as he took hers. _I never want to wake up again. _

He broke the kiss as abruptly as he had started it and she found herself staring into vibrant blue eyes. She became aware of a dozen things; the way her breasts pressed against the cold metal of his armor with every breath she took, the latent ache in her shoulder and the damp feeling of the material under her hands.

"It's really you. You're really here." She whispered finally, as understanding rushed through her. Not a dream. This time, at last, it wasn't a dream.

He smiled slowly, almost shyly and said: "I gave my word I would return for you, Jane. I always keep my word."

As they kissed again, applause erupted around them. Punctuated by laughter, cheers, and the occasional wolf-whistle, the ruckus startled the two away from each other. It seemed that half the base surrounded them, clapping wildly. Fury was front row center, looking stern and amused all at the same time; Darcy was standing beside him jumping up and down while clapping like a loon. Tony stood beside her, grinning like the Cheshire cat and _filming _the entire thing with his cell phone.

Embarrassed, Jane covered her face with her hands and turned into Thor's chest. He laughed, his arms surrounding her, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She heard Fury's voice, calling for order and knew that soon he would be pulling Thor away for one thing or another. Her questions would have to wait until after, until she could take him home and they could sort out what would happen next.

Right now, though, right now he was holding her. Right now everything was exactly as it should be.


	8. In which Big Brother has some questions

**Chapter 8: **In which Big Brother has some questions…

* * *

><p>Darcy clasped her hands together, held them under her chin and sighed deeply. Her eyes were bleary with tears, her face hurt from smiling, and she felt as though her heart would burst from all the emotions trying to fill it; happiness, glee, triumph, jubilation… <em>joy<em>. So much joy it filled her up from head to toe and made her want to laugh hysterically and weep like a baby. She wanted to scream and dance and run around in circles, flinging confetti over everyone. She wanted to throw her head back and shout _FINALLY _with all her limited lung power at the ceiling.

Jane and Thor were together, holding each other as though they'd never let go again, and it was just so absolutely perfect that Darcy, who could count her joys on the fingers of one hand (with digits to spare), was overwhelmed.

A heavy hand dropped suddenly onto her shoulder and, startled, she looked up at a grinning Stark. He didn't say anything, merely stood with his hand on her shoulder and watched the spectacle that surrounded them. Then, from where he stood in the crowd, Thor glanced away from Director Fury and caught her gaze. He smiled, not a flirtatious smile or even an indulgent one, but one that was warm and welcoming, and winked. Acknowledgement, understanding, telling her without words _Do not worry, I've not forgotten about you. I know you're there. You're not invisible._

For some reason that Darcy didn't completely understand, the actions of the two men; Stark's hand on her shoulder and Thor's simple acknowledgement, brought a rush of fresh tears to her eyes. Like the Captain's earlier concern, and Pepper's little texts about remembering to study and please eat something besides pizza and leftover Chinese, it seemed to cause something inside of her to click together. Like puzzle pieces fitting together. Like something missing inside of her was beginning to repair. Something she hadn't known was broken.

It was strange that she didn't feel out of place here. Standing in a crowd composed of secret agents, super-powered beings, one living myth, and more big-brained geniuses than she had ever thought existed in the world, Darcy M. Lewis felt as though she were _home_. As though she were back at that little breakfast table two years into the past. She belonged. She had a family, she realized. She had the strangest, most mismatched family to ever have walked the universe… but she had a family. How weird was that?

Thor's attention returned to Director Fury, but Darcy noticed the way his hand continued to rub Jane's arm and how his free hand came up to clasp over the one the Astrophysicist had rested on his breastplate. She saw the contentment beneath the flush of embarrassment on Jane's features and knew that, even if he would have let her, nothing could have prompted her to leave Thor's side.

Jane might not have all of her answers yet, but if that kiss was anything to go by then she had the most important one.

Stark's hand slid off of Darcy's shoulder as a tech came up to speak with him. Thor and Jane broke from Fury's company as the Director again began to assert order over the chaos that too many elated lab geeks had created. She wasn't at all sure where Captain America had disappeared to, though she imagined that he had escaped the crowd as soon as possible. She didn't see Coulson anywhere either, which was weird because she had figured he would be _right there_ when the happy couple surfaced from each other.

Six-plus feet of Norse myth suddenly filled her vision and no one was more surprised than Darcy when Thor's free arm came around her back and pulled her off her feet and into a tight hug. His armor was ice cold and she was sort-of smooshed against Jane, but she didn't really mind all _that_ much. She heard Jane's soft laugh and found one of her own. Wow, she really hadn't expected much more than a passing wave.

"It is good to see you again, Darcy," he stated, setting her down and releasing her only to an arm's length. She didn't object to the hand that remained firmly anchored to her elbow anymore than she objected to the one Jane clasped about her hand.

"You too," she mumbled, looking between them shyly, uncertain of how to respond. She didn't remember ever being greeted so enthusiastically before, not even by her sister the one (and final) time she had bothered to fly to Rhode Island for a school break in her first year of college.

She was saved from further comment when Stark bounded up, a loose collection of mildly crumpled papers in one gauntleted fist; giddy as a five-year-old in a toy store. "Do you know what we did? _Do you know what we did?"_ He waved the papers at her as Jane took a slight step away from Thor's side to face the multi-billionaire, her boyfriend (although Darcy did wonder at the term, finding it oddly lacking) retained contact via a hand at her shoulder.

"What?"

"The Portal, Jane! It was only supposed to stay open for two minutes, three tops; four if we shut down power in the whole of New Mexico."

"I know," she replied, and Darcy suddenly glanced down at her watch. She realized that it was a great deal later than she thought that it should be. How long had they been standing around celebrating? "We talked about that. Why?"

"_Ten minutes_! Ten minutes without blowing the power supply! The stabilizer is shot to hell" he laughed, hardly concerned "but it kept everything steady for more than _double_ what we thought it would. We can improve that, in fact, we are _going_ to improve it. I have an idea about rebuilding the stabilizer so it won't fry next time. _TEN _Minutes, Jane!"

And without stopping to consider actions, consequences, or the very large and preternaturally strong alien standing behind her, Stark hauled Jane up by her arms and kissed her right on the mouth. Darcy's jaw fell open and she couldn't help the laugh that rolled out. His brain caught up to him mere seconds later and he released her as though she'd burned him, stepping back and lifting his hands, palms out, in a supplicating gesture and said;

"Sorry, sorry!"

He didn't look sorry. In fact, the phrase 'the cat that ate the canary' was rather more accurate to his expression.

Eyes narrowed dangerously, Thor pulled Jane carefully back against him and said in a very, _very_ calm voice, "I am in your debt for the consideration and aid that you have shown Jane in my absence, therefore I will forgive the transgression—_this _time."

"Point taken. All the same, if you wanted to kiss Pepper when you meet her, I'd understand. Prefer if you didn't, but I wouldn't try to blast you into next Tuesday or anything."

Darcy wasn't sure entirely who was getting the favor there: Thor or Pepper.

Jane tilted her head back, looking up at Thor with a carefully blank expression "Don't take him up on that."

The prince of Asgard stared down at her with an expression somewhere between amusement and confusion "As you wish."

Her eyes shifted over to Darcy and they grinned at each other. Later, Darcy thought, they would find a moment to schlep off to Jane's office where they would squeal and dance around like kids. Childish, yes, but it would be just the thing to relieve the nervous, excited tension they were both feeling.

It seemed as though hours went by in the hangar as every scientist, tech, and big-brained smarty-pants in the base pushed their way through the assemblage to meet/gawk at Thor, god of thunder, before Fury and his agents managed to restore order. Darcy's ears were ringing and her hand hurt a _lot_, but she remained loyally rooted to her spot next to Jane. She was, however, growing ever more concerned that Captain Rogers had been right and it might be fractured. That was a complication that didn't bear thinking about, especially with finals in the very direct future and one or two things she really didn't want to explain to Jane.

Fury appeared again and directed Thor toward the corridor. He probably wanted to debrief, or interrogate, or whatever scary eye-patch-wearing secret military directors did to aliens they wanted on their side. The next few minutes were absorbed by Thor and Fury entering into an intense discussion that, as it turned out, involved both herself and Jane's presence in said debriefing.

It didn't surprise Darcy to learn that Thor rather firmly refused to be so immediately parted from Jane in order to enter into a lengthy conference about the events that happened two years ago and something called the 'Avengers Initiative'. What did surprise her, however, was Thor's refusal to be parted from _her_ as well. Jane made a few quiet attempts to assure him that they understood, and had plenty to do to until the debriefing was over, but Thor was unmoved and, in the end, he won.

They were led through the maze of hallways; past locker rooms, labs, the infirmary, and various rooms whose purposes were unknown to Darcy until Fury finally led them into a narrow conference-type room that seemed to have stepped right out of a spy movie. An oval table dominated the center of the space, surrounded by rolling office chairs in stringent black. There were, she suspected, more people than there was space around the table.

Fury took a moment to introduce Thor to Steve, and then took his place at the head of the table and waited for everyone else to find a spot. Thor led the two of them to the far end of the table, and proceeded to stand stoically behind and between their chairs; one large hand resting on Jane's shoulder. Every now and then, however, he would reach over and tug on a strand of Darcy's hair or the edge of her scarf. Agent Coulson took the seat at the Director's right hand with Agents Romanov and Barton, respectively, next to him.

She was mildly uncomfortable sitting so close to Barton who, while nothing but polite, unnerved her. Still, she reflected, it was better than sitting next to Natasha. Close proximity to the femme fatale tended to warp a girl's ego into nothingness.

At the end of the table, next to Jane, sat the Captain and next to him was a dark-haired and somewhat geeky looking man who was so obviously one of those big-brained scientists that made Darcy's head hurt. If her glasses weren't broken in half in the parking lot behind the town's only hotel she might have been able to read his name off the tag hanging from the lapel of his blue shirt. She was certain that she hadn't seen him around the base before. Well, he'd be introduced eventually.

Beside him, directly across from Darcy, Stark lounged. He'd removed his helmet and it sat facing her on the table. She had the oddest feeling that it was staring at her, despite the fact that the man normally behind it was bare-headed and fiddling with an unnamable piece of tech. The last few seats of the table were taken up with unknowns, S.H.I.E.L.D agents by the look of them.

Fury started out by introducing Thor to those at the table he didn't already know. The mysterious scientist-type was someone named Banner. The name seemed to have some significance for Jane who let out a nearly-inaudible gasp that caused Thor to become extremely tense behind them. Fury was continuing with the introductions, but Darcy caught Banner glancing Jane's way with something like embarrassment in his expression. She'd have to wheedle the details out of her friend later.

The meeting proceeded through Thor's account of the events from two years prior: his banishment, his brother's nefarious schemes, and their epic showdown. He became tense once again and Darcy, having swiveled around in her chair to look at him as he told this story, had a feeling he was leaving a few details out. She watched the way his eyes focused on Jane when he spoke of the necessity of destroying the bridge, and the deep regret as he spoke of his brother's death.

They had known that Thor was returning to Asgard to stop his brother, of course, but there hadn't really been a lot of time for him to explain much of anything. She had gleaned some facts from the conversation Thor had had with his friends in the garage before the Destroyer had arrived, and the jolly bearded friend, whose name she couldn't remember, had explained more in the van on the way to the gate. Yet it had never really struck her, until now, everything that had happened to him. His brother had led the enemy into their home. Manipulated him, forced a wedge between Thor and their father. Said their father was dead and that it was his fault, that their mother essentially hated him. Then on top of all of that, because apparently kicking a man when he was down was fun, he had sent a giant metal fire-breathing beast to destroy a whole town and everyone in it.

Loki had been driving the thing that had blasted the town to pieces, and he had to have known, also, that there was no way his brother could have survived taking a hit from that metal monster without his powers. Thor's own brother had wanted to kill him, _had_ killed him… or very nearly. His. Own. Brother. It was awful. So awful that it made Darcy's stomach hurt to hear about it.

People always said that blood was thicker than water, or that the only ones you could really count on was family. What no one ever told you was that betrayal by family cut so deep. You were filled with a sick sort of anger, and yet part of you still loved that person. You were left questioning every moment of your life, searching for when the truth had stopped and the lies began.

Darcy's mind drifted idly as Fury and several others around the table began to ask a long series of questions about the Frost Giants, Loki, and various other things.

What came next, she wondered. After this meeting, what happened? She and Jane had never actually discussed today in any speculative detail, so Darcy didn't know what to expect. She _had_ to go back to Jane's house as she had left her laptop and textbooks there, but Thor and Jane would undoubtedly want some privacy. That wasn't a big deal, of course, and she totally understood. However, she felt a vague sort of disappointment sweep over her. Third wheel syndrome, she was the inconvenient little sister all over again.

She jumped a little when several of the people clustered around the table began to rise, including Jane. The conference had been adjourned and Darcy hadn't even noticed its conclusion. Her boss touched her shoulder, leaning over her with mild concern, "You okay? You look a little out of it."

"M'fine" she managed, aware of the heat rising into her face, "just lost in thought, I guess."

"Fury still has some details to iron out with Thor about tomorrow, and then they have to get his identification in order. I told him we'd wait for him in my office; I have to look over the reports from the Portal before we can get out of here and _you_ need some Caffeine."

"Caffeine, yes, definitely need caffeine" Darcy laughed "And a bagel. And cream cheese."

"I told you to get something to eat before you left the house" Jane retorted.

Darcy rose from her chair, and followed the astrophysicist through the room. She grinned when Thor caught Jane's hand, brought it up for a kiss before stating that he would be with her again soon. He nodded at Darcy as she walked by, and she dropped him a curtsy that had him chuckling.

Jane didn't speak as they traversed the maze of hallways, and Darcy understood. Jane's connection to Thor had been speculated on since the project had begun. She wasn't actually sure how that rumor had gotten started, really. There were only a few people who knew the facts (Coulson, Fury, the agents that had shadowed them), and about Thor's vow to return for Jane (and the hot kiss they'd shared at the time). It was a leak that had never been traced back to one person, something that had spread from mouth to mouth until no one really remembered who they'd heard it from.

It had made for some awkward moments for Jane. So they had a rule about not discussing Thor outside of Jane's office, or in Jane's office when the door was open. All the rumors had been confirmed today, so Darcy imagined there would be a lot of whispering.

As they rounded the corner of the last hallway and were nearly home free they found Ironman, now dressed in black slacks and a black tee-shirt, leaning against the wall just outside Jane's office door. The glow of the machine imbedded in his chest was clearly visible through his shirt and was just a little disconcerting. Darcy often wondered if its presence ever bothered him, or if he was just accustomed to it and what it had enabled him to become.

He had been studying his handheld computer with avid concentration, but his attention reverted to them almost instantly when they approached. His tone, when he spoke, was light and casual, but there was a stern undercurrent to his words that made Darcy a little uneasy. "Darcy, I need to borrow you for a bit. That is, if you don't need her for anything."

"Nothing right now, I guess," Jane shrugged, "Is anything wrong?"

"No, no. Just a little issue came up with her scholarship. Pepper insists that I take care of it personally." Tony grinned, waving off Jane's concerns.

"What's wrong with my scholarship?" Darcy demanded, wracking her brain for the details of it. It wasn't actually a scholarship so much as a very wealthy man paying her entire tuition and then some. It covered everything; tuition, books, housing, and any specific supplies that any class required. This was, of course, on top of the impressive check she earned as Jane's assistant.

She knew that the scholarship had been created specifically for her. She wasn't some brilliant prodigy, or anything like what the Stark companies usually had scholarships for (and she knew this for a fact, she had looked into them when she'd first started applying for colleges). Now she began to panic as she thought that maybe she had done something to violate some term she hadn't known about.

"Just a little hiccup in the paperwork that was overlooked" Stark said smoothly, laying a hand on her shoulder and guiding her back through the hallways. "You and Pepper were talking about changing your major before she ran off to London, weren't you?"

"Umm, a little, yeah" she replied. There was still that stern edge in his tone, and she wasn't sure what to make of it. "She thinks that Political Science is a waste of my talents."She didn't add that Pepper was about the only person ever to believe that she _had_ talents to waste.

"That is absolutely true" he agreed, nodding but not looking at her. "Pepper has a talent for finding a person's skills, and placing them exactly where they will be the most effective. Just be careful she doesn't run you over, because she will if you let her."

Darcy laughed a little, "I don't mind, really, I'm just glad she didn't say that collegewas wasted on me. That's what my dad said, right before I left home."

"Harsh."

"That's my dad" she grinned at him, and then frowned as Stark maneuvered her through the doors to the base's infirmary, the very room where Jane and several others had been taken after the explosion. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. The room was wide and bland and cold. There were a handful of beds lining the left and right walls, separated from one another by thin white curtains. A small examination room lay through a door at the far wall. Though it was actually very rarely used (prior to the explosion, at least) it reeked of iodine and illness.

Darcy didn't like hospitals, never had. She didn't really have a reason beyond that they made her a little anxious. However, this mild discomfort was suddenly amplified by the sight of a rather stern looking Captain America with his arms crossed over his chest and equally stern looking Dr. Banner with his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat standing together in the infirmary, staring at her.

She turned and found a rather grim looking Ironman place a device on the double doors of the infirmary, a circular thing with four little spikes sticking out of it. It attached to the door with a small hiss, and a button on the center gave out a muted red light.

"So," Stark began, tucking his hands into the pockets of his slacks "about your visit with Donald Blake this morning."

She cringed, "Busted."

"Yeah." Her boss' boss nodded, "You are."

"Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in?" she felt a hand on her shoulder, heard Steve's voice positively dripping with concern, and felt absolutely horrible. She had lied, repetitiously, and they had probably both known the entire time.

She wasn't sure what the dead giveaway was; her tardiness on a day she'd looked forward to for nearly two years, her lame excuse about school, her bruised hand.

Darcy had only ever punched someone once, in high school when she'd found her very first boyfriend ever in a compromising position with his best friend's girlfriend. The resultant swelling, bruising, and general pain from that event had encouraged her not to repeat the action. Until today, that is, when she had learned an important lesson in making sure that her taser was in her purse and _not_ sitting on the passenger seat.

The Captain, a man undoubtedly familiar with bruises such as the one now gracing her right fist, had not bought her hastily conceived excuse about catching her hand on the door of her dorm room. It stood to reason that Stark probably hadn't bought it either. She realized only now how lame and so-obviously false the excuse sounded and felt utterly humiliated by it.

"I'm sorry" She mumbled, "I didn't think-"

"Damn right you didn't think. We don't know what this guy is capable of, Darcy. Everything that Coulson has dug up on him says that he's benign, but _I _don't believe that and I know that you don't believe it" Stark snarled, arms folded. She had never seen him angry before. She had seen him annoyed, and tired, and irritable, but never angry. She had to say, it was more than a little intimidating and, worse, he was right. Even knowing how much Donald utterly despised her, she had never considered what he might do if he had caught her in his hotel room.

"Hey, don't talk to her like that." Steve warned, body going rigid beside Darcy. "Whatever she did, the important thing is that she's all right."

"Maybe _you_ don't realize the danger she was in, _Captain_. This guy isn't just some crazy nut-job running around. This is an intelligent, ordered individual with an obvious obsession with Jane, strong dislike for Darcy, and easy access to drugs, syringes, scalpels, and other fun little tools." Steve bristled in indignation, but the fact that he was far stronger than Stark didn't seem to bother the shorter man a bit, "You want to coddle her, pat her on the head and tell her everything's okay, fine, but she is _my_ employee and I'm not going to let it slide."

"That isn't what I'm trying to do-"

Stark rounded back on Darcy and he spoke over the Captain as though the man weren't there. Darcy wondered if he realized he wasn't in the Ironman suit, and thus virtually helpless against the greater strength of the larger man. On the other hand, she was discovering that Stark was intimidating in or out of the suit; the worry-born anger that poured from him made her desperately wish for a deep, dark hole to hide in.

"You might have everyone else fooled, kid, but not me. I know you've been pulling his attention onto yourself, baiting him, pissing him off, to take the pressure off Jane. You figured that if he snapped, he'd go for you instead of her and you're probably right. But looking after Jane when he shows up is one thing, going out of your way to provoke him is another. You're smarter than that, I _know_ you're smarter than that so you tell me now why you did something so beyond stupid-"

"That's enough." Speaking for the first time since the conference room, Dr. Banner inserted himself between Stark and Darcy, firmly edging the angry billionaire away by the shoulder, and staring at the Captain until he too took several steps back. His voice was low and even, almost soothing. "If you shout at her anymore I will become upset. As you've both been appraised as to what happens when I become upset, I think you can agree that it is in everyone's best interest if you both take a step back and cool off."

"Right, sorry" Stark muttered and, after a moment, he glanced around the doctor to Darcy and repeated, "Sorry."

Steve remained silent, merely edged a hip onto the metal footboard of one of the beds, folded his arms, and glowered at the pacing billionaire.

"Good." The doctor turned to Darcy, "Captain Rodgers believes that your hand is broken. If it's all right with you, I'd like to examine it. I'm not _technically_ a medical doctor, but I have enough experience to treat you and it will remain just between us."

"Yeah, okay." Darcy said meekly, thoroughly cowed. Dr. Banner smiled at her encouragingly, and she let him lead her to the examination room. While she wasn't exactly nervous about being alone with him, at least not with Ironman and Captain America just one thin door away, she was very glad when he left said door open.

She was obliged to sit on the examination table while he took her hand and examined it. After a few minutes of heavy silence, Tony slipped through the door and took a on the little rolling stool the base's physician usually used, leaned his back against the wall and hooked an ankle over a knee. Steve appeared a moment later, leaning his shoulder against the door frame.

"I didn't… I wasn't trying to provoke him." Darcy said quietly, "I just wanted him to leave Jane alone today."

"How were you going to accomplish that?" This was asked by Tony, whose tone was less than charitable, but didn't quite have the same bite it'd had a few minutes before.

She shrugged. "I don't know, really. It's not like I had some grand plan. I thought… that I would tell him that Thor, that Jane's boyfriend, was coming home finally. That she wasn't going to be around today because she was picking him up and they'd probably not come back tonight."

She didn't need to look at Stark's face to know what he thought of that, the rude noise he made was enough indication. As she couldn't look at him, she stared imploringly at the Captain. "It's just… he's put so much pressure on Jane, you know, just showing up the way he does. Then I saw him yesterday and it was like, 'oh my god, he's going to turn up on the same day Thor comes back', and that wasn't fair! Jane's been waiting for this for so long, and I couldn't let him do _anything_ that might spoil it for her."

"I don't believe your hand is broken or fractured" Dr. Banner broke in, "I can't be certain without X-Rays, of course, but I think you're just a little bruised."

"Thank God." Darcy sighed,

"However," The doctor added, "If the pain gets any worse, or the swelling continues for more than a few days, or if you hear or feel a sort of grinding when you use your hand, you should go in to an emergency room immediately, do you understand?"

"Yes. Thanks, Dr. Banner."

He inclined his head and replied, "Just Bruce, if you don't mind. Are you allergic to aspirin? No? Have you taken anything; ibuprofen, advil, anything with acetaminophen, in the last six hours?" at her negative response he produced two small round white pills and a small paper cup of water. She took them, downed the water, and laughed when the doctor opened a drawer and presented an orange tootsie pop to her. The base's physician had a weakness for them, she remembered, and wondered how he'd feel about someone pilfering his stash.

"You should have come to me with this, Darcy, I would have helped you. I would have gone _with _you." Stark said when Dr. Banner, Bruce, had moved off lean against the row of cabinets to one side of the exam room. "However, it's done now and the Captain is right, the important thing is that you're okay. Now, I want to hear what happened from the beginning. You went to the hotel, then what."

Darcy shifted a little, and thought that doctor's exam tables and dentist chairs would make excellent interrogation devices. They were practically made to make anyone who sat on them feel small and vulnerable. She turned the lollipop over in her hands, finding it much easier to look at the bright wrapping paper than at the men that stood about the room. It was a sad, sad day when she couldn't revel in the fact that three very hot (and she had to admit, Bruce wasn't all that bad looking) men were paying such close attention to her.

"Well, he wasn't there, I mean, I didn't see his car and no one answered when I knocked. I talked to the guy in the lobby and he didn't know anything so I… sort of conned the key off of him."

"How?"

"Wasn't hard," Darcy shrugged, "Popped a few buttons on my top, leaned on the counter, flipped my hair a couple times, giggled a little and the key was mine."

Steve looked concerned and mildly horrified, Stark looked a little proud, Bruce appeared indifferent and it was he who asked; "What did you tell the clerk?"

"I dunno, some story about spending the night with this guy and leaving one of my earrings in his room and needing it back right away, something like that."

Steve's eyebrows shot up, but all he said was, "Why did you want into his room?"

"I was curious." She replied, "I thought I'd just poke around, see if I could find anything weird. I know it was a stupid idea, I regretted it almost as soon as the door closed but I was already inside and… I just didn't leave."

"Darcy," Stark said, leaning his elbows on his knees and pinching the bridge of his nose "Never mind that. Just start from the beginning, tell us what happened."

She fidgeted uncomfortably, toying with the end of her scarf and willing the aspirin to take effect. Sorting her thoughts took more time than it should have, mostly because she was stalling. It was easy to admit now that the really ought to have gone to Stark. He had taken her concerns regarding Jane's ex seriously, and had run his own background checks on the man in addition to the ones that S.H.I.E.L.D. had done.

It was a frustrating situation for him, Darcy thought, because while Donald's actions to date were certainly those of an unwanted and annoyingly persistent suitor, they weren't _quite_ over the line of stalking. The agents that were in charge of guarding Jane had never caught him peeping through any of her windows, or lurking around town taking pictures of her. He never tried to enter her house when she wasn't there to steal underwear or anything weird like that.

He had never threatened Jane during their conversations, hadn't so much as raised his voice to her in frustration. Not even when Darcy was around to irritate him into an early departure.

"Like I told you, he wasn't at the hotel when I go there. But when I left, when I went back to my car, he was waiting for me…"

* * *

><p>Tony Stark watched as Darcy disappeared around the corner before letting the infirmary door swing shut. He hoped that Jane didn't question too closely why a simple mistake in paperwork took almost forty-five minutes to sort out. For the moment he had agreed that Jane didn't need to know about her assistant's field trip. There was no need to cast any sort of shadow over the day, especially since Fury had utterly refused to push back the little <em>getting to know you<em> training excursion for the Avengers that would start early tomorrow.

Of the three Avengers present and aware of the situation, The Captain had been the most reluctant let it go. He was understandably concerned for Jane and Darcy's safety, and was torn between standing back and letting the newly-returned Thor handle things when they eventually arose (as they most certainly would), and quietly taking care of things himself. Both situations had merit, both had drawbacks. Stark could sympathize. So could Coulson.

That Donald Blake was obsessed with Jane Foster was obvious. However, he just didn't qualify as a threat by S.H.I.E.L.D standards. All the background checks had revealed nothing alarming. He was extremely well educated; a prestigious boarding school from which he had graduated at the top of his class, then straight to Harvard. He had graduated from medical school in the top three percent of his class and had nothing but glowing recommendations from all the teachers, employers and former patients that Starks' people had found and interviewed.

Actually, looking at things from the outside Stark could understand why a young Jane Foster, fresh from college, had fallen for him in the first place. Blake was intelligent, articulate, organized and, while he was commonly described as _reserved_, it was often remarked that he could be quite charming. Both Stark's People and S.H.I.E.L.D_. _had plowed through his past and hadn't been able to come up with so much as a parking ticket. There just wasn't anything in his history point to his current behavior.

Even his actions with Darcy this morning; appearing by her car all smiles and _I think we got off on the wrong foot_. Polite, regretful, friendly; overnight he's a completely new man. Changing tactics? Being pushy isn't getting the desired result, so now it's time to regroup and try a different angle. Get on little sister's good side and use her against the target? It really wasn't all that uncommon a tactic, but it didn't really make sense in this scenario seeing as little sister hated his guts.

It wasn't what he was doing so much that disturbed Stark, but the fact that prior to that morning Dr. Donald stalwartly refused to speak directly to Darcy and rarely acknowledged that she was present. Everything she did seemed to annoy him more and, by her own account, the hostility had been slowly escalating, the time in which he could take her poking growing ever shorter and then it just stopped. No anger, no frustration, no hostility. He had even apologized for being rude to her, and nothing Darcy had said had evoked the usual response.

Until, of course, she had sucker-punched him.

Even then the response hadn't been terribly pronounced, but that just seemed to be typical of the doctor. Still, Stark trusted Darcy's assessment of things; she had been the one provoking him all these weeks after all. Striking him had severely frayed the tight control he had on his emotions, more so than anything he had done before. It had taken a visible effort for him to walk away from her this time.

Normally Stark was fairly good at pushing aside the _what if_ and focusing on the _what is_. It was something he needed to do for himself and for Pepper, who worried about him continuously. Just as it happened with his fiancée, though, those pesky little imagined scenarios hammered relentlessly at his mind. Each more violent than the last, and all of them ending with Darcy's lifeless body dumped somewhere in the miles and _miles_ of desert surrounding Puente Antiguo, never to be found.

Stark shook his head in an effort to clear it. There was no use pouring over that just now. The important thing was that she was fine and he was pretty sure that she wouldn't be pulling a Nancy Drew in the foreseeable future. He had made certain to scare the stupid right out of her, and he didn't feel the least bit bad about it. Steve's sensibilities over the matter could just go to hell.

Honestly, he wasn't sure who he wanted to throttle more: Darcy for her youthful delusions of invulnerability or Steve Rogers for being the 1940's version of the perfect Boy Scout. One he could forgive, Darcy couldn't help that she was young.

He and the Captain would undoubtedly have it out during this little training camp Fury was arranging. They'd been butting heads on and off since they'd met.

The clock over the door filled the room with relentless ticking, the only sound now. He appreciated the quiet, the time to think without people chattering at him. He would have to go join up with the group soon, but not before he had this sorted. He turned the information of Darcy's encounter over in his mind. He'd give this to Darcy, she'd made good use of the opportunity. Hitting him with questions and accusations; some of which were very good and some of which were irrelevant.

What was particularly interesting to him, though, was that Donald had a logical and fairly reasonable answer to every question except for one.

When asked _she has a boyfriend now, why don't you just go away, _the doctor had replied that he had seen no evidence of said boyfriend and suspected that he was fictional. Okay, Stark could understand that to a degree. Especially if he had been watching Jane long before actually making contact with her, which Stark suspected was possible. Blake was average height and weight, under the right circumstances he might just blend right in, especially if he had been playing the voyeur for a while. Say, since before Thor's hammer had drawn S.H.I.E.L.D. into Puente Antiguo.

He was then asked why he kept pressuring Jane when she had made it clear she didn't want to see him again, his reply was that he had simply that he felt that Jane was worth fighting for; that his persistence was to show her how much she meant to him. How serious he was about her.

Maybe so, and Stark would go so far as to say that some women would like to be wooed with flowers and presents and frequent visits and such. In another situation, Donald's actions might have been considered romantic. However, he wasn't just trying to soften her refusal; he was ignoring it completely.

Darcy had described him as being sincere in his answers, as though she were interviewing him, rather than accusing him. As though he thought she would take all his answer back to Jane and plead for his side. Then she had asked what was possibly the simplest question of all; Why. Why had he waited for three years to try to save a dead relationship?

He hadn't had an answer. He had just stared at Darcy, uncomprehendingly, as though the why should have been obvious. It was as if the time interval between when Jane had left him and when he had turned up on her doorstep had never occurred to him; like three years was no different than three months or three days. It was one of those little niggling details that bothered him about the whole sordid mess.

Things about Donald Blake did not add up. The man himself did not reflect the image of stability that his background and the people who had been interviewed about him portrayed. No one as contradictory as Blake could possibly have such a benign past; and if the standard above-standard runs weren't going to reveal his dirty little secrets, Stark would just go deeper.

Smirking a little, he pulled out his phone and punched in a number from memory. If anyone could ferret out the torrid details about someone's past it was his own personal forger/professional blackmailer. For a moment, while the connection rang, he considered the ethical implications about Ironman maintaining such a person on his payroll, and then the line connected and a voice thick with sleep snapped out a terse greeting.

"Harper," he replied, all thought of ethics forgotten "I have a job for you."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Comments<strong>

_**Update**: This chapter has been Beta'd. _

This chapter is alternately titled 'Stuff I wanted to get out of the way so I can get backto the Thor-Jane goodness.

Let me just say that each and every chapter of any story is a unique challenge to write. You have an idea of what the chapter is supposed to be and what is supposed to happen, but that's not always how things go. Such is the case of this chapter which was an incredible challenge.

This is one of those transitional chapters that closes up one arc of a story and leads into the next. I had been going to explain what happened on Darcy's little field trip, I have the whole thing written out, but when I put it all together it was very awkward and long winded so I felt compelled to edit it. I'll find a place for it later, I hope, or just leave everyone wondering.


	9. The Rest of Me

**Chapter 9**: Return

* * *

><p>Jane Foster looked up when the door of her office creaked open, and a rush of concern temporarily smothered the giddy high she had been riding. Darcy looked very pale, and far more tired than she had in the conference room. She smiled when she saw Jane, some of the weariness leaving her features.<p>

"Everything okay?" Jane asked, rising from her desk.

"Yeah, fine. It's fine. Just a paperwork thing, like Stark said. Coffee?"

Gesturing to the pot as she came around the desk and leaned back against it, Jane watched as her assistant set about fixing herself a mug of milk and sugar with a touch of coffee in it. She was trying hard to act as though nothing were out of the ordinary, and doing a terrible job of it. Jane sighed, wondering what she was supposed to do. Once upon a time, Darcy would have been standing there, chattering on about all of her troubles, whether Jane had wanted to hear about them or not. Now it seemed that something was up, something which had apparently drawn Stark's attention and which neither party wanted Jane to know about. Oh golly, whatever could that be about?

She wasn't angry, or even hurt. Whatever had happened, whatever Darcy had done, Jane knew that she had done it because she wanted to help. Because this day was so important no one wanted to spoil it for her. Well, what was she to do about that? Jane was a brilliant scientist, the best in her field… but when it came to people she wasn't always on firm ground. She didn't have a trial-and-error system to base these kinds of situations on, and so didn't have the slightest idea how to proceed.

Did she let it go and save it for a different day, or confront it now and get it over with? What was best for Darcy?

The situation with Donald was a little out of hand. Okay, she admitted, it was a lot out of hand and she hadn't exactly managed it in an effective manner. Maybe Stark was right and she had been too gentle and reasonable in her rejections, but screaming and yelling hadn't worked on Donald three years ago and she saw no reason why it would now. The fact was that once he got an idea into his head, he became viciously single minded about it. She had seen that trait take over before, and had misinterpreted obsession for initiative and, well, here she was.

Maybe the right course was to let Stark step in, but Jane was quite discomforted with the thought of letting someone handle her problems for her. And maybe there was a part of her, a small part, which figured that if someone were going to run her ex-boyfriend off, he ought to be Thor. It was only natural, she supposed, for a woman to want her man to protect her.

Darcy turned around then taking a long sip from the utilitarian white porcelain mug the cafeteria stocked her office with every morning. Her color was back up, but she was giving Jane an odd look. "Something wrong?"

Guilt was written all over her face and, for some reason, it made Jane laugh.

She decided then that she would let it go. Right here and right now was all that mattered. Later she would drag the truth out of her wayward assistant. Later, after she and Thor had a chance to talk and he knew about the situation with her ex, they would decide what to do about it.

"It's perfect" she replied, "Everything is absolutely _perfect_."

Darcy grinned set her mug aside and scampered over, taking Jane's arms. "I have wanted to say this for, like, two hours now…. I _so_ totally told you so."

"He's really back. He came through… I still can't… I can't wrap my mind around it."

They ended up squealing nonsensically and dancing around like children. It was a wonderful feeling, refreshing to strained nerves, soothing

It was a wonderful feeling when the rush of giddy excitement to take their mugs and sit at their usual places around Jane's desk. She needed the touchstone, they both did. Jane caught Darcy up on what she had zoned out on during the meeting, and specifically the details about the following day's training exercise that Fury was insisting on.

"Seriously? You just got him back and Fury's already stealing him away for three days? Thor's okay with this?"

Jane sighed, "I like to think that he'd rather have more time with me, but the rational part of my brain keep reminding me about who he is. The Avengers might barely be formed, but I understand the idea of what Fury is trying to create. It's important, and it's something that I'm just going to have to accept if I want to be with him."

"Makes sense, I guess" Darcy said, sipping her coffee reflectively. "Sucks though. You guys are probably going to want privacy when you get-"

"You're having dinner with us" Jane said firmly "I know you have class early tomorrow so you have to go back to the dorms, but this is a big day and I think that we should celebrate. We'll get take out and we'll eat out on the patio."

Darcy's eyes narrowed suspiciously, and it was Jane's turn to look nervous. "Jane…" she said, drawing the name out musically, "Are you… avoiding being alone with Thor?"

"No" Jane replied instantly, and winced "I just need a little buffer for a while. Look, I've been waiting for this for two years and I'm just… I don't know what happens next."

"Should I give you a hint?"

"That's not what I meant. "

"Draw a diagram?"

"Darcy!"

"Maybe sing a dirty limerick or two? What rhymes with 'there once was a man from Asgard?"

That did it. Jane snickered, and then Darcy snickered, and before long the two of them had dissolved into laughter once again. When composure was regained and coffee refilled, Jane sat back and sighed,

"I was thinking we'd get pizza."

"You know all my weaknesses." Darcy giggled, "You know you're going to be alone with him at some point, right?

"I'm not avoiding anything. It's just that… he and I have some things to sort out, or at least I do, and I have no idea how to go about that. I don't know what we are to one another, and that scares me." She set her coffee cup aside, glanced at the pile of books on the shelf behind her desk "You've seen the prime example of my bad judgment."

"Thor isn't Donald" Darcy replied gently.

"I know. But I feel like… like this is all crazy, like I'm rushing into things and it's just going to end up like before. I don't know what Thor's expectations are, or my own for that matter."

She didn't add, because she knew Darcy understood that she was still in a bit of disbelief that Thor had actually returned. Though she had always wanted to believe that he had always intended to keep his word, another part of her had simply wondered why he would bother. She was just Jane Foster. There was nothing special or magical about her, why would he bother to think of her again. Why would he care about her?

Now he was here, and he was looking at her as though she were the most spectacular thing he had ever seen.

"Look, you and Thor… I saw it happening right from the start. From the minute you started bossing him around, and pestering him with all those questions." Darcy smiled fondly, eyes distant as she recalled the memory "_You_ didn't see it, or didn't realize it, but he couldn't stop looking at you. I mean he spoke with me and Erik, but his eyes would always turn right to you. I don't know if this is destiny or if the two of you are soul mates or whatever, but I _know_ that you've got the real deal here, Jane. Just relax, and try not to over think everything."

Jane laughed "I'll try not to."

A quiet tap at the door heralded the delivery of the initial data collected on the portal's opening, and the end of the conversation. As Jane began to rifle through the collection of printouts, Darcy automatically collected both mugs and refilled them before setting up the tri-folding, tinted glass panels that were mounted to sliding rails at the far end of the room. Jane thanked her as she set out a small stepstool in front of the leftmost panel, and a small selection of brightly colored pens in small cups that were magnetized to the metal frame of the boards.

The next few hours were spent in the unique rhythm of work and conversation that Jane and Darcy had steadily developed over the last few years. Jane stood in front of her boards, with one dry-erase marker stuck behind her ear, another in her hand, and a third in the back pocket of one of her jeans, capped this time. Meanwhile Darcy was carefully sorting through the pile of papers Jane had set aside, methodically attaching them to metal clips and tying the clips to color-coded strings which she then hung from the ceiling in pre-arranged groups.

More papers were delivered, assessed, and hung or pinned. The dark glass panels became a bright, endless pattern of notes and formulas. Three pots of coffee were consumed.

There were far fewer personal questions about Thor than Jane had expected. Perhaps the rumor and speculation had never been seriously considered. It had become mere office talk; a way to take pot shots at a project head who, many felt, was far too young and under-published for her position. Thor's entry through the portal alone would have shattered through the assumptions of _most_ of the skeptics.

She supposed the lot of them were either still in shock, or a little intimidated. It wouldn't last, she knew. The questions would come, and they would likely range from extremely personal to outright insulting.

But it was worth it.

"Somehow, I doubt that smile has anything to do with… whatever weird thing you're scrawling there."

She glanced back at her assistant, standing in a small cloud of hanging papers, and felt heat rising into her face. She began to reply when another knock interrupted, and she instead called out permission for entry.

"Hello, Dr. Foster. I hope that I am not interrupting." The figure of a small young man slipped through the doorway, and Jane smiled fondly at him.

"Not at all, Ryo. What do you have for me?"

She stepped down from the stool, capping her pen and sliding it into her back pocket with the other one. The young man offered her another manila folder "Mr. Stark asked me to deliver this to you. It is the data extrapolated from the Stabilizer prior to it's… ah… unfortunate demise."

Jane laughed "Thank you, I've been waiting for these files. Have they extracted it yet? The stabilizer, I mean, just how damaged is it?"

"It is irreparable, I'm afraid and Mr. Stark is having quite the disagreement with the technician about how it might be removed. As it is fused to the box on one side, I believe they will have to remove the entire section."

"Fused? There is no way that thing got hot enough to _melt_ molded adamantium. Not without destroying the whole system, box and all!" Jane replied, mildly alarmed. The young scientist shook his head, which set her at ease a little.

"No, no. The adamantium and vibranium components appear to be intact. Removing them from the rest will be… difficult, but they suffered no damage in the meltdown."

"Small favors" She replied "At least we have that going for us. I believe Tony already has some ideas for an upgrade, at least this will give him an excuse." Jane set the files aside and studied the young man before her.

Ryo Akado was a funny little man. Four inches shorter than Jane, he had a round face that looked much younger than its twenty six years, and hair that defied the laws of gravity no matter how he tried to pat it into place. His lab coat seemed to be perpetually rumpled, his tie was askew, and he was utterly brilliant. Fresh from college, Jane had handpicked him due to a series of rather impressive papers that had led Jane to believe he wouldn't be as skeptical as some of the older, more experienced scientists that Coulson had offered for her to choose from.

He was also the only person aside from Stark that could decipher her shorthand notes and her system of hanging papers.

Darcy drifted forward offering the young man a gleaming smile that caused a blush to rush over Ryo's face, handed Jane some papers, and drifted away again. For several moments, Dr. Akado could not begin a sentence without stammering. She would have to tell her assistant not to tease the scientists… again.

"I b-believe that the adamantium-vibranium ratio used in the stabilizer's creation _was_ correct and that the error was that we did not anticipate the difficulty the subject would have crossing through, or the need to keep the portal open longer than two minutes. While the adamantium and vibranium were specifically used due to their ability to withstand extreme heat without breaking down, it never occurred to anything that we might need to isolate and protect the surrounding components."

"Yes, I'm sure Tony's kicking himself for that one, but you're right; we had no idea how difficult it would be for Thor to cross over." And she absolutely refused to consider what might have happened to him if Tony hadn't been able to keep everything running.

Ryo hesitated, a little crease forming between his brows and his face became contemplative and he said, "Dr. Foster, may I pose a question to you?"

"You're wondering why the stabilizer melted, despite the fact that the temperature in the hangar was extremely low."

"Indeed. The thought has already crossed your mind, I see. I had only just thought of it."

Jane smiled warmly. She liked the boy more than most of the others, though they had the least in common. He was a pleasure to talk to on days like this when he was at ease. There had been times when she had feared that, despite his brilliance, he was simply too young to handle the pressure and stress that came with a project of this magnitude.

It sometimes seemed like Ryo's only fault, was that stress turned him into a nervous wreck. He would become jumpy, skittish, and would barely sleep. Always he would come out of these stages just before it became necessary to let him go, and always he seemed to bounce back quickly, but it wouldn't be long before it happened again.

"The best theory I can offer is that it is a product of the portal itself. We are compressing two points in space together, there are bound to be some strange effects. I expect we'll know more when the analysis of the residue left in the ring is analyzed. The new samples were delivered to the lab, I hope?"

"Of course, Dr. Foster, I delivered the sample myself, along with your… ah… _request_ for expedience with the results. The reply was rather rude, and I refuse to repeat it."

Jane laughed, and was grateful that she had sent Ryo with the sample, instead of going herself. The lab squad was probably tired of her haranguing them, and would be glad to have her off their backs for a while. She could just imagine what sort of response Ryo refused to repeat.

"Ryo, while you're here, would you do something for me?" Jane asked.

"Of course, I would be glad to be of assistance."

"Well, Darcy and I are hoping to be ready to leave as soon as Coulson is done with Thor. Now I figure that _I _can be done in plenty of time, but Darcy has so much paperwork to sort through, and _you're_ the only one I can think of that knows my system as well as she does."

Ryo looked startled and very nearly afraid, glancing back at Darcy, still quietly sorting through paperwork as though she weren't listening in, and then back to Jane. She realized that she wouldn't be giving Darcy that lecture about teasing the scientists. "I… well, that is… of course I would be happy to help Miss Lewis…"

Jane thanked him, then glanced over at Darcy and leaned close to Ryo, whispering loudly to him, "And it would be best to sort through those papers _very_ thoroughly. There's no rush."

She smiled, patted the blushing man on the shoulder, and turned back to her panels, trying to remember where she had been before the interruption.

* * *

><p>The son of Odin moved through the sterile halls of what had been rather affectionately nicknamed 'Hammer Base'. So named for the fact that it had been erected just a few miles from where <em>Mjolnir<em> had landed several years before. It was more than an hour's 'drive' from the village where Jane made her home, and well hidden, though the village was at least partially aware of its existence.

The son of Coul walked at his side, and Thor found that he had to continuously check his stride so as not to walk at a pace that the shorter man could not match. This was difficult, as he was at last released from the tedious process of choosing a Midgardian name and was eager to be in Jane's presence once again. He regretted that his duty as a defender of this realm would take him away so soon after returning, despite that it was only for a short duration.

Coulson had been silent through most of the walk, speaking only to direct him down this corridor or that one. Once or twice he felt compelled to remind Thor about the use of the 'cell phone' that he had been issued, and it's maintenance. At last they rounded a corner where, in the middle left side of the wall a door stood ajar, warm light pooled across the anemic, gray lit hallway and he noted the sound of feminine laughter.

"_I _didn't do anything!" Darcy's voice, amused and indignant rose over the sound of Jane's laughter. "He was out of here so fast I didn't even get the chance to thank him. Doesn't really do much for my confidence if the geek-squad runs away from me… stop laughing, it's so totally not funny!"

Thor paused at the door of the room and turned back to Coulson. "I owe a debt to you, Son of Coul, for your attention to Jane's safety during my absence."

"Just doing my job" Coulson replied, though he seemed pleased. "We will have a security detail for both of them until you get back. The last few weeks have been quiet, but I don't feel that the threat level has fallen enough to stand down just yet."

"I agree with you" Thor murmured "If I am interpreting my mother's vision correctly, a death comes in the wake of my return. I would caution you to be vigilant, son of Coul, I would not wish that death to be yours." The large man hesitated a moment before reaching a hand into the small pouch affixed to his armor beneath his cloak. By touch he identified the correct item and brought it out; a small flat circle contained in a small red velvet pouch. "A gift, consider it a token of friendship."

The small man seemed surprised as he took the item from Thor's hand. Without reply he loosened the leather strap that kept the pouch closed and carefully pulled from it a silver medallion, about two inches in diameter, intricately and beautifully embossed with runes.

"This medallion is worn by the honored _Einherjar_, the elite warriors of Asgard. Each medallion is crafted specifically for the warrior who has earned the right to wear it. These runes here," Thor indicated a series of runes that ran down the center of the circle, "are your name; Phil the son of Coul, and these here tell of your courage and dedication as a protector of your world."

The agent stared at the gift silently for a moment, before taking the leather cord in both hands and placing the item around his neck. "Thank you." He replied sincerely, "I am honored."

The choice of gifts had been difficult for Thor as there was only so much that he could, in all practicality, bring with him. As he watched Coulson examine the item, he decided that he had chosen well.

The hum of voices drew his attention, and two long strides carried him to the open door where he knew Jane awaited him.

The office wasn't what he had been expecting in this maze of white washed walls and gleaming steel. It was a large, rectangular space with a row of narrow windows at the back wall and a thin, rough looking carpet covering the floor. To the left of the room, late afternoon sunlight spilled across an L shaped desk piled high with paper stacks and open books. Darcy stood working intently at a small circular table placed near the middlemost window; she had not yet noticed his presence.

His eyes took in every detail of the room; the coffee maker on its little trolley that was placed exactly between Jane's desk and Darcy's table. The jacket tossed haphazardly across the seat of a chair. The piles of cords, wires and gadgets that lay here and there in piles of precisely ordered disarray. The spicy, floral aroma of Jane's lotion clung faintly to the air; he breathed it in, the scent of his _elskling_, and felt his blood warm with desire.

He remembered vividly the last morning he had spent with her. How she had emerged from her chamber refreshed, rubbing the fragrant cream into her skin. He remembered how it had mingled in the air with her natural scent, intoxicating him with every breath. He had been filled with a deep, primal urge that he had never before experienced. Not merely the desire to ravish; but the need to claim and to be claimed.

He had vowed then to stand as Jane's protector and companion. In that way would he prove to Erik Selvig, and to himself, that he was a worthy husband for Jane Foster.

He turned his gaze toward the source of the scent and nearly laughed at the sight that greeted him. Drifting at different heights, either clustered together or set apart, pages of paper hung in the air like small square clouds. It was a strange and remarkable sight and spoke of both Jane's method of organization and Darcy's creativity. Heimdall had described it to him, but he had not been quite able to imagine it accurately.

The cloudbank curved very precisely around the far end of the room, where set a triad of opaque panels and a woman standing beside a small ladder, diligently painting the darkened glass in bright, curving script.

Darcy looked up as he moved further into the room, and grinned when he raised a finger to his lips. There was an innocent mischievousness in the smile that reminded Thor of a very young Sif, from a time before Loki took enchanted shears to her hair. He looked back to Jane. She seemed deeply focused, and he hoped that she would not see his reflection in the glass as he could see hers.

She took a step back from her work to study the writings above her head and he watched as she lifted one slim hand and rested it on the panel's frame. The other deposited an uncapped pen into a small cup attached to the other side of the panel and then lifted to rub wearily at her eyes. He heard a soft sigh escape from her and thought; _how tired she looks_.

She had worked so fervently for so long, charging forward like a warrior on the battlefield. It was though her fire and passion that he had been able to return to this world, to the place and people that he had come to love, and did she rest after her success? No. Not Jane. His blood was already hot for her and now a new warmth suffused him; swelling through his chest. He felt at once proud and humble, lightheaded and steady.

Silently he stepped up behind her, gently covering the hand that lay on the panel frame with his own. The other he wrapped around her waist, bringing her back to rest snugly against his chest. His armor prevented him from enjoying the warmth of her against him, but she was solid and real and he could feel the way she relaxed in his hold. Her head turned to look at him, and Thor pressed his lips to her temple and held there. Her right hand lifted, trailing fingers across the line of his jaw.

"I missed you." She whispered. He knew Jane wasn't referring to the time that he had just spent with Fury and Coulson, sorting out the details of his existence on Midgard.

"As I have missed you, _min elskede"_ he murmured against her skin. He felt her breath hitch beneath his hand and it made him smile. "How long I have dreamed of holding you again."

"You weren't the only one dreaming" she replied quietly. A small sound drew his attention to the rest of the room and he glanced behind quickly to notice that the son of Coul and Darcy were putting on an unconvincing show of nonchalance. "We have an audience."

"So it would seem" he chuckled, and bent to brush her lips with his own. Control, he reminded himself, and pulled back from her slightly. This apparently did not suit her, as she merely turned to him and, putting her arms lightly about his wait, stood to her toes to give him a quick kiss.

"Are you all set?" She asked "Identity all settled?"

"A name has been chosen, yes. Although I must confess that I do not quite understand the… necessity of it."

"You never know." Jane smiled "What name did you choose? I never saw the list."

"I have chosen Kain Saether as my Midgardian title." Although he didn't understand the need, there was a part of Thor that found the prospect of human identification interesting. He was eager to learn more of this world and its strange customs. It could also be contrived as a sign of respect, as Jane's suitor he was showing that he would gladly become a part of her and her world. As she would one day become a part of his.

He watched as Jane pondered the name for a moment, and found that he was absurdly anxious to know whether or not it pleased her.

"I like it" she said finally "It suits you, but it's not pretentious. The point is to blend in, after all."

"I am glad it pleases you" he replied, although what he really felt was relief. "However, it is my wish that you continue to use my true name."

"Of course" she laughed "Kain Saether is just for sometimes, you know, like keeping a low profile when the Avengers make their public debut. It'll make it easier for you and I to live our lives without tripping over TV cameras everywhere we go."

Thoroughly amused, and having no idea what a _TV camera _was, Thor said, "I shall take your word for it."

"Hey lovebirds, quit whispering sweet nothings to each other so we can get out of here. I'm _starving_."

Jane peered around his him to make a face at young Darcy who merely laughed in response and replied that Jane _had_ promised something called _pizza_. The woman in his arms sighed but wasn't, he believed, truly annoyed. "If we don't feed her soon, she'll never stop whining."

Thor grinned, "She has something in common with Volstagg, then."

It took less time for the pair of women to prepare to leave than he had expected. Actually it was only a matter of placing loose paper pages in small, pale yellow files and gathering up the assortment of personal items. Coulson had to assure Jane several times that the cleaning crew knew not to touch her glass screen before she was satisfied enough not to have Darcy fold them into the wall.

Jane lifted the strap of a small side-pouch over her shoulder and appeared to be surprised when Thor offered her his arm, hesitating a moment before looping hers through. He didn't speak as he watched Darcy rush from one end of the room to the other searching for something called an ipod, which she had apparently lost. He dare not, for fear of laughing.

"Why on earth would it be under the coffee pot?" Jane asked, exasperated.

"Things end up in weird places when I'm tired. One time in high school," she said as she crawled beneath Jane's desk, "I lost my glasses right in the middle of finals week. A month later I found them in a tupperware container in the fridge." She sprung up from the floor triumphantly waving a small, bright red object in the air before promptly stuffing it in her pocket. "I still don't know how that happened."

Jane shook her head. "You are so strange sometimes."

They proceeded through the gray halls at a leisurely pace. They passed many people in white frocks, who stared at him in fascination. As the son of Odin and the temporary king of Asgard, Thor was accustomed to being gawked at in both fascination and fear. However, he was grateful that the onlookers retained their distance. He was eager to be away from this place, eager to see Jane's home.

They passed many closed doors as they walked. This part of the base, Jane explained, mostly consisted of the recreational facilities such as the mess hall and lounge. There was also a small fitness area and shooting range, the latter of which was only used by S.H.I.E.L.D agents. Coulson pointed out one small door as leading to 'Armory 3'.

Suddenly Mjolnir, which had hung at his side silent since his emergence through the portal, began to hum. It began so abruptly, in fact, that it startled Jane away from him with a small cry. Whisking his cloak aside, he touched the hilt of the hammer, feeling the anxious pulse emanate through his fingertips.

"Is that normal?" Darcy ventured to ask.

"It is a warning" Thor replied, lifting the weapon from his side and turning so that he could glance up and down the passageway. It was empty but for the four of them.

"What kind of warning" Coulson asked, steady and calm as he took from his suit jacket a slim, black object.

"Danger." Said Thor, moving cautiously forward in the passage toward the only open door; Mjolnir's hum pulsed strongly for a moment, and then began to fade rapidly. By the time he looked into the empty room, the hammer had fallen silent. It remained so as he moved through the room before returning to Jane's side, and did not react similarly as they made their way swiftly and silently out of the corridor. No one spoke until they were beneath the open sky.

"What just happened?" Jane asked, visibly anxious.

"I do not understand it myself. Mjolnir reacted as though it were sensing a danger. Yet there was none but us in the corridor, and nearest room appeared vacant."

"Weird." Darcy stated, "Cause the door was open, and it's only ever open if someone's in it. The shooting range is so close," she explained, "that you can hear the gunfire from it pretty clearly in the lounge. So if the door is open, the agents just have to poke a head in and let anyone there know that they're going to hear shots, so no one thinks that the base is under attack or anything."

"It's been left open before" Coulson stated. "Thor cleared the room, it was empty, and it only has one entrance. It must have been further up the hall."

"Mjolnir reacted to something that was in that room, son of Coul. I am not mistaken in that."

And yet there had been nothing overtly threatening in the little lounge; A few small tables, cushioned chairs, viewing screens. Neither had there been a second exit. It was perplexing. He said as much when Darcy's head perked up suddenly,

"There is too another way out. There is a little, like, supply closet in the back corner. You can hardly see it because it's between two bookcases and one of them is partly overlapping the frame, but it doesn't matter because the door opens _inward, _not outward. Some of the couples use it for a quickie."

"I did not see this closet." Thor admitted, and found that the fact was a little alarming. He had checked the room very carefully, and should have noticed another doorway, even one that was partially hidden.

"It's easy to miss, like I said, but the thing is there's this little ventilation duct on the floor in the corner. You know Shelly from the computer lab? She was telling me that when she and Ben-the-janitor were in there, the cover on the vent just fell right off. She had figured they'd, well, been responsible for it."

Coulson immediately took out his communication device, dialed a number, and became quite focused on the conversation he began with the one called the Black Widow. Darcy looked quite pleased with the information that she had imparted, laughing when Jane demanded to know why she wasn't being kept up to date on the local gossip.

The small agent closed the device with a click and said, "We're looking into it. Go ahead and go, I'll inform Director Fury of the situation." And with that, he turned around sharply and strode back toward the base.

For a moment, Thor considered following him. It was possible that Mjolnir would react again to whatever or whoever had disappeared from the room. Jane shifted in his arms, however, and he relented. The son of Coul was a warrior, and perfectly capable of handling this situation. If Thor was needed, they would contact him.

Jane seemed to agree, for she shifted away from him, taking his hand in both of hers and led him across the fenced yard to the same vehicle with which she had twice struck him. Darcy wandered over to a smaller contraption, the same bright red as the ipodshe had sought earlier.

"I ordered the pizza while you two were flirting" She said, grinning "I'll swing through town and pick it up. I hope take-n-bake was okay, I didn't know how long you two would be staring longingly into each other's eyes."

"One of these days, Darcy, this is all going to come back to bite you" Jane replied. Climbing into the seat beside her, Thor reached out and briefly caressed his fingers down her cheek. He was charmed by the blush that spread across her face. "If you do that while I'm driving, I'll run us off the road again."

"I shall attempt to restrain myself, _Elskling_." As they began to move away from the base, Thor turned his focus to the small mirror, watching as the S.H.I.E.L.D soldiers hastened to close the gate. He thought of his mother's prophecy and wondered if Mjolnir's reaction had been to the murdered or the murderer.

* * *

><p>Agent Phil Coulson stood in the break room lounge. Around him, six agents moved systematically looking through every cushion, magazine and book. The microwave had been taken apart, the bookshelves torn down and disassembled. Every item had been taken out of the supply closet to be catalogued and tested. After a month-long absence Person X, the Prankster, had evidently returned.<p>

At least that is what Coulson believed.

It was the only thing that made sense. What other threat could Thor or, rather, Thor's hammer have sensed from an empty room except for the one person that had actively plagued, and inconvenienced the efforts made to open the portal to Asgard? Who but the very person whose actions had resulted in the injury of Jane Foster?

"Boss?" Coulson glanced over at the agent who had appeared at his side. Samuel Deryn, one of his best, a man possessed of a snarky and sometimes macabre sense of humor looked utterly grim. "I think you should see this."

He followed Agent Deryn across the room to a low counter beneath which rested a row of cupboards. Deryn tapped a set of cupboards with latex-encased fingertips and said, "I don't know how he did it but… well, take a look." Apprehension prickled over Coulson's skin as he pulled the pressboard doors wide open.

He closed the doors almost immediately, eyes darting to Deryn and then back. He opened the doors again and, this time, studied the thing inside. He'd thought the bacteria in the cafeteria that had caused everything, including the sealed canned goods (punctured in the side with a nail, sealed with tape and then expertly covered by the label), had been a stroke of sick genius. This, however, this was just sick.

It had been a dog, once. He didn't recognize the breed, though he thought it might have been some kind of spaniel. All that remained now was the head, neck, and a few inches of bloodied spine. It had been roughly skinned, and posed on its side, lips peeled back over teeth, bloodless tongue hanging out grotesquely. A red collar remain was attached tightly over the fleshy part of the neck.

"Check the tag" Deryn said quietly.

There wasn't anything particularly unique about the tag; it was the generic bone shape that you acquired out of engraving machines at pet stores. He lifted it delicately, turned it over and felt his stomach clench. Engraved on the cold metal were the words **Where is the rest of me**.

"Deryn" Coulson said slowly, "Get your team together, and search every inch of this base, room by room."

"What are we looking for?"

"The rest of her." He said, taking his phone in his pocket and rapidly dialing a number he knew by heart, "Hello, this is Agent Coulson. I need a Code 17 security team on the Foster properties for the next three to four days, please. Thank you."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Comments<strong>:_

_**Update**: This Chapter has been beta'd _

La la la. I don't really have much to say except that this chapter didn't at all go quite the way I expected it to.

So Thor's human moniker is a bit of a joke I had with myself. Because this is the meaning for Kain that 20000-names .com gave me: Greek form of Hebrew Qayin ("acquired, possessed"), but meaning "maker; fabricator," or literally "smith." and the surname Saether is an Americanized version of Sæther, from a list of Scandinavian surnames that are common enough to be the equivalent of having the last name Smith.

Thanks be to **all-in-the-past** for being magnanimous enough help some translation work I very desperately needed for this chapter, and the next, to come out the way I wanted them to, as well as for providing the list of last names.


	10. Home

Chapter 10: Home

* * *

><p>Puente Antiguo was a small but sturdy community that seemed to have existed since the dawn of time. The population as a whole was large enough that everyone didn't necessarily know everyone else, however; the shops along the oldest part of town still functioned like a typical tiny town. If you worked along the main drag or lived in one of the lofts above the old stores, everyone along the street knew you and all your business. Jane's personal research area should have been exempt. It wasn't and Jane waved at several shop owners as they stepped out to see exactly who she had in the van with her.<p>

"I am grateful to see that it has been rebuilt." Thor said, surveying the buildings from the passenger seat of her van. "It is as though the destroyer never came."

"SHIELD was the frontline of the recovery effort. Everything was rebuilt exactly as it used to be in almost no time at all." Almost no one had left, which had surprised Jane. Their stores were repaired and restocked and then it was business as usual. There hadn't even been a lot of fuss about the gas-line explosion cover story. Sometimes it almost seemed like the town-wide secret was a point of pride.

"You guys could have gone on to the house" Darcy said, appearing at the window with two enormous plastic wrapped pizzas between her hands.

"Thor wanted to see how the town was doing" Jane replied. "It was on fire the last he saw, remember?"

"Oh yeah." She turned to her red 2000 Kia and settled the food into the back seat before circling the car to the driver's side. "I'm so hungry, ugh. You tour as long as you want, I'm getting to the house A-SAP."

Jane laughed and waited until Darcy had slid into her car before turning the key in the van. She glanced at Thor as they followed the little red car through the town and said, "You didn't really want to see the town, did you? You just wanted to keep an eye on Darcy."

"A storm approaches, Jane. To drop our guard now would be unwise."

"Do you mean your mom's vision? The guy in the portal?" She wasn't sure what Fury and the other S.H.I.E.L.D agents had thought about Thor's mom's prophecy. Fury had appeared to take it seriously, but she also had only seen the man with that one expression on his face so it was hard to tell. Jane didn't have the luxury of skepticism in this matter. She had been there when the Destroyer had ravaged the town, she had been there when Thor had regained his powers and she had been there when he had disappeared into a whirlwind.

After all of that, why doubt the psychic queen of Asgard?

"Aye, that and more; it disturbs me greatly that this person moves through a labyrinth of soldiers and never is he seen or, if he is, it is not later recalled. The son of Coul has stated that the investigation into the incident that injured you has yielded only more questions."

"Pepper says that Stark took the security footage apart pixel by pixel trying to figure out how he's editing himself out… or she, I guess. The security system we use is his tech and he's not happy about being out-Starked."

"I do not think that the fault is in the effectiveness of Stark's contraptions, nor the attentiveness of Fury's men. I am beginning to believe that something else may be at work here."

"What do you mean?" The afternoon's previous unease reawakened in her stomach and flicked frequent glances between Thor and the road.

"I think it possible that there is an element of magic to these occurrences. Either someone possessed of magical ability or someone in the employ of a mage." He shook his head. "Hiding behind illusions is a common trick among magical practitioners; one Loki often used in his mischief. I cannot see that it would be difficult for an experienced mage to hide himself or another from Stark's security devices."

She had never thought it might be magic. Some part of her had assumed that it was a whacko S.H.I.E.L.D agent because who else but a spy could have the capability to get a whole vehicle in and out of the base without being seen? Actually, on that note, magic did make more sense. "Thor, could it be… I mean, could Loki have-"

"My father does not believe it possible for anyone to survive falling into the void" he said gently "My brother is dead, Jane. You need have no fear of him."

His hand was warm where it came to rest on the back of her neck. His thumb made comforting little circles behind her ear. Whether it was her he was reassuring or himself; Jane didn't know. There were things, details, about the fight with his brother that he had withheld. Small hesitancies in his speech where it seemed like was choosing his words carefully. At one point in his story, where he told of his confrontation of Loki inside the Bifröst, he had lifted his hand from her shoulder to caress the backs of his fingers against her cheek.

It might not have seemed out of the ordinary to her, as he'd barely stopped touching her since he had emerged from the portal, but there was an undercurrent of tension beneath the touch. She wasn't sure what it meant and, really, wasn't sure if she wanted to know.

Fifteen minutes out of town the van turned from paved civility onto an unmarked dirt road. They passed Old Stan's ranch, the heavy gate secured between the tall log posts that held an elaborate, and rather clichéd name sign, and then there was nothing before them but miles of prairie. Clusters of little yellow flowers stood out against clumps of pale green brush. The desert in bloom was a lovely sight indeed, and possibly what had first softened her toward 'buying' her house.

There were inconveniences about living so far out of town. It was quite a drive to the base for one thing, and she did worry about emergencies. However, now that she had lived in the house for a year; she found that she understood the appeal of distance. But for the occasional S.H.I.E.L.D semi-discreet security detail that took up residence in the outbuildings on her property, she had no neighbors but Old Stan who lived more than a twenty minute drive away and rarely stopped in.

As Pepper had pointed out to her, Thor was a distinctive man. When the Avengers made the headlines he _would _be recognized. Now that he was here, now that she was seeing him again armored and battle ready, she understood what Pepper had tried to tell her. Now she was intensely grateful for the woman's meddling.

This sort of isolation hadn't been her idea, however. Oh she had agreed with Pepper, and had warmed to the idea of having a little place more out of town than in. Of course she had been thinking along the lines of three or four miles out. It was through a combination of meddling, sneakiness, and outright manipulation by one Tony Stark by which she had come to live in more than an hour's drive from, well, anything. In hindsight, she realized that she ought to have known better, given Tony's highhanded ways.

Shortly after sharing her plans with Pepper, Jane had found herself knee deep in good fortune. While trolling real estate websites _just because_ she was thinking about it, Pepper had _just happened_ to stumble upon a lovely, seventy-five year old southwestern ranch house with two outbuildings and a fairly large acreage attached to it.

Oh it was a _little_ further out of town than Jane had been thinking, Pepper had said. The house and both outbuildings needed some cosmetic work, but it was structurally sound and had an amazing view. The price had been too good to be true. In fact the whole deal had been too good to be true and Jane had known it, but she had let Pepper drag her out there anyway. Just as Pepper had assumed, Jane had fallen in love with the place then and there.

Jane, however, was nobody's fool. Neither was she a stranger to the mysterious ways of real estate. The property, cosmetic damage and all, was worth far more than Pepper claimed the asking price was. Far more than Jane could afford, regardless of her generous wage from Stark Industries. Eventually Pepper had broken down and revealed that it was, as she had suspected, Stark's house.

One of those things, his fiancée confessed, that he had bought up just because he felt like it, then never thought of again. At first Jane had adamantly refused the house. For four months, in fact, she had stalwartly refused to even talk about it. She had only relented on her birthday when, in a box wrapped in shiny golden paper (tied with a red ribbon, of course), Tony and Pepper gave her the deed to the house and the keys.

No sooner had she thanked them than Pepper had offered to oversee the little bit of work the house needed, considering that Jane was so busy with the Project and everything.

It was at this time that Jane had learned that the formidable team of Stark and Potts were going to do whatever it was they wanted to do, and there was not a thing that anyone could do about it. Pepper's little bit of cosmetic work turned into a major renovation which she charged, of course, to Tony's accounts. When Jane had protested (loudly and with much outrage), Pepper had, sweetly, bid her a Merry Christmas.

Tony's response had been even more infuriating: "Stop worrying. My pockets are deeper than you'll ever know."

She had been very slightly pacified when Major General Potts had given her selections of colors and materials for various rooms and allowed her to choose what she liked best. She was further mollified when she was allowed, with the same method of choice, to pick what furniture she wanted and where it would go. She had even been allowed, in the spirit of compromise, to purchase certain things, like her bedroom set and the patio furniture.

"We're almost there." Jane told Thor, enjoying the feeling of his fingers against the back of her neck. "It's a lot different than my… ah… prior living situation." and the memory of that moment was still a little embarrassing, even after all this time.

"We two would not have fit well if your small chambers, I think."

Inside of her a little knot of uncertainty eased. She hadn't known if he had expected to stay with her, or if he had wanted to. When Pepper had been decorating the house, Jane's only real request was that it not be too feminine. She wanted Thor to be comfortable there, to feel that it was his home. She was glad now that she wasn't expecting him to stay only to discover that he planned to live at the S.H.I.E.L.D. barracks at the base.

As quickly as that worry was assuaged, a new one rose to take its place. What if he didn't like the house at all? It was a good jump up from the trailer, but a long ways from a palace. What if it wasn't enough for him?

His hand slipped from her skin and she felt his touch on her knee as he leaned toward her. "Have I overstepped my bounds? I assumed that I would take residence in your home when I returned. On Asgard it would not be inappropriate for us to… My knowledge of Midgard courtship rituals is limited and if I have offended you in any way-"

"No, no" Jane said quickly "You haven't- why would you think that?"

"You are distressed. I assume it is because of my comment a moment ago. Your honor is very important to me, Jane. I would do nothing that would cause damage to your reputation."

It took her a moment to process what comment he meant, apply it to her apparent distress and from there figure out what he was talking about, how it applied to her honor and why he looked so adorably embarrassed. When everything clicked together in her mind she had to slow the car down while she laughed. Then she had to stop it entirely while she covered her face with her hands while she attempted to regain control of herself.

"You are a very confusing woman" he murmured, which only made her laugh harder.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, fighting back giggles "It's not what you think. I mean, you haven't overstepped any bounds or offended me or anything like that."

"I am relieved" he replied, though his expression remained uncertain.

"Really, it wasn't anything you said. I just… you aren't like anyone I've ever met and sometimes it sort of hits me that I don't know what you expect, or want and I let it scare me."

He regarded her for a long, silent moment, vivid blue eyes intense and searching. Finally he pressed his mouth to her forehead and said in a low voice, "We are, neither of us, on entirely familiar ground. Women I have known, but none such as you. None so baffling, certainly." He smiled when she laughed. "You must not fret so, _Elskling_. We will learn this together, you and I, and whatever is to happen between us will come in due course."

Her hand found his where it rested on her knee, and she smiled when he moved to intercept her fingers and entwine them with his own. "I don't know anything about Asgardian courting rituals, and the ones here kind of vary. I suppose you won't really understand what I mean when I ask 'are we together?'"

"That question does not refer to the two of us being in the same place at the same time, does it?"

She laughed and reaching for the gearshift, said "Okay. Due course, like you said. I'll try to stop freaking out all over the place." She pulled from the shoulder of the road, gazed toward where the dark smudge of her house rose up from the prairie.

"For the sake of clarity, _min elskede_, it is not improper for us to reside together?"

"Its fine" she assured him, "It's… sort of what I had hoped for."

The remainder of the drive was taken in silence, but Jane found herself catching her breath when the view of the house was clear. She pointed it out to him, and held her breath as he leaned forward and studied it as they approached.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked as she pulled into the driveway. The property was not yet fenced. It was one of those things she had promised Stark she would see to herself, and then promptly forgot. She'd get to it one of these days, probably.

Thor exited the vehicle and stood gazing up at the layers of wood, plaster coated brick and mortar. Jane moved around the van and stood beside him nervously tugging at the tail of her shirt and hoping that he didn't regret leaving his gold-drenched palace. Despite the truly phenomenal amount of stress that acquiring the house had put her under (to say nothing of the renovation), the final result was that Jane loved her house.

The porch that ran the length of the front of the house was peaked at the center where the front door was nestled. The second story's roof was divided into two sections with the small third floor rising up between them. Four wide floor-to-ceiling windows fronted the third floor with two smaller triangular windows filling the space to the crest of the overhang. Red slate decorated the peaked roofs, and rough log boards accented the plaster and brick.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of scrutiny, he put his arm around her waist and said, "Our home is beautiful, Jane."

_Our home_.

She leaned into him, resting her head on burnished metal, feeling light headed with relief. That was exactly what she had wanted it to be. Not just her house, not Jane's place. She just hoped that he liked the inside as much as he approved of the outside. "Think we'll both fit okay?"

A heartbreaking smile spread across his features "Let us go and see." His big hand engulfed hers and he led her toward the house but, when his boot touched the first step of the porch, he hesitated. He glanced down at himself and then looked up at her with an awkward smile and said, "A moment, Jane. This is something best done outside."

"What are you-,"

She moved toward him instinctively as he walked back to where he had studied the house. He cautioned her back with one hand, "No, _Elskling, _it is not safe for you to be close to me at this time."

The click of the deadbolt was the only indication that Darcy had stepped outside, as the door opened silently on well oiled hinges. Locked doors, Jane thought distantly, were a sign of one particular unwelcome visitor. She hadn't seen his car on the road, and hadn't noticed anyone speeding away from her driveway. Maybe Darcy was just being paranoid; the product of whatever had happened early this morning.

Maybe it was time to see about that fence.

"'Bout time you guys got here. I have the pies cooking… I love your oven, by the way. What's Thor doing with Mewmew?"

"I have no idea." Jane said as the Asgardian lifted the hammer toward the sky where dark clouds were rapidly forming.

"So, like, you two okay? You just sorta stopped in the middle of the road."

"A little miscommunication, I think. We're fine."

The younger woman was about to respond when a flash of blue-white light startled them both. Thin, spidery bolts of lightning were pouring down from the sky to _Mjolnir_, wrapping around Thor like a net. His cloak and armor seemed to blur, flaking around him like vibrant dust before they twisted upward into hammer's broadside. The event, whatever it was, lasted only a moment or two before it abruptly ended.

"Whoa." Darcy said as Thor strode toward them. Jane whole heartedly agreed.

His armor had changed from an elaborate metal breastplate to a simpler one of some kind of heavy leather. Silvery metal formed a V over his chest, and curved around his sides to join the front and back sections of armor together. The crimson cloak was gone but she saw flashes of the material crafted into the leather at his shoulders and different points over his torso.

The woven mail that had covered his arms was gone, leaving them bare from shoulder to wrist where he wore a sort of gauntlet or bracer; crimson cloth beneath wide strips of metal. His pants and boots remained the same as before.

Well, she thought, he had said more or less. If this was less, she wasn't complaining.

"I thought this might be more appropriate for home." He rumbled, brushing his fingers along her jaw, "You might say _this_ is how I normally look."

"It's a good look." Jane murmured, blush heating her face.

"I'll say." Darcy added.

Thor chuckled, the deep tone of it washing over her and sending a cloud of memories sparking through her mind; the long drive to the SHIELD facility, the night spent on the roof of her research lab. Remembrances that she had clung to when it seemed like everything was going wrong and it felt as though she would really never see him again.

"Wow, it's really hot out here. I'm going to go back inside where the chemistry isn't as thick." In a whirl of dark curls, Darcy ducked back into the house leaving Jane and Thor alone at the bottom steps of the house. The college student had left the door open, either as invitation to enter or a method to spy. Jane considered various ways to throttle her incorrigible assistant (most of which involved some sort of nefarious fate for Darcy's precious laptop) until two large, warm arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her snug against a leather-and-metal clad body.

"Let her have her fun," Thor said "Darcy cares for you as her own family."

"I know she does." But it was weird somehow to hear someone say it directly. Not just because of Jane's own family history but because she knew enough about Darcy's family to know it had not been a peaceful, happy household. A mother absent for reasons Darcy never spoke of; an overbearing, mercurial father and an older sister who had, in Darcy's own words, only looked after herself. She hadn't even been bitter about that, which was a kinder attitude than Jane had for her father who had done much the same thing.

So it stunned Jane sometimes that Darcy, who had never had family that she could count on or even really love, should look at and interact with all the affection of a sibling. Strange that she should respond to Jane's often tentative affection with all the eagerness of a new puppy. It was flattering, heartwarming, and sometimes a little terrifying.

"I know she does," Jane repeated, shifting her hands between them to rest on the hardened leather. "If Darcy weren't teasing us, I'd be worried that she was sick or something. I'm not mad at her, don't worry."

The teasing, though a little exasperating, was not unexpected. In fact, it was a bit of a relief; whatever misadventure Darcy had experienced that morning, whatever Stark had said or done to make her so pale and shaky, hadn't been enough to subvert her sense of humor. She was well recovered, and that made Jane feel as though she could let the matter rest.

"Come then, _Elskling_, let us join her."

"You keep calling me that" Jane laughed "But I don't know what it me—ah!"

Moving so swiftly that she hadn't even realized what he was about to do, Thor had scooped her up into his arms. He held her aloft, one arm supporting her back and the other beneath her knees, regarding her with such intense adoration that she felt her eyes begin to warm with tears. He moved up the three steps to the porch landing with no effort at all, his gaze locked with hers as he approached the door,

"The Iron Warrior saw fit to inform me of a few Midgardian traditions he thought I ought to know about" he said.

"This is, um, a very particular one, Thor."

"I know." The emotion in his eyes made her tremble. "I am not a man of poetry… I cannot court you with pretty words about your how your beauty and spirit have captured me, or of my unending devotion. Were I to try, I fear you would laugh."

"You've done fine so far" she murmured, and was rewarded with that smile that she loved so much.

"Only because I have had two years to prepare" he chuckled, and then grew serious "Allow me to let my actions say what my words cannot." He moved forward, crossing the threshold into the small entryway between kitchen and living room.

She wanted to tell him that she understood what he was trying to say; that she didn't need pretty words and poetry. She wanted to tell him what it meant to her, how it frightened and elated her. How safe and cherished she felt when he held her. However, as his mouth crashed against hers, Jane found that she couldn't think beyond the prickle of his beard against her skin, the scrape of teeth against her lip, and the taste of him as he devoured her mouth.

The deliberate clatter of stoneware dishes against granite countertops broke them from something that might not have waited the two flights of stairs to the bedroom. Breathing hard, Thor set her gently on her feet, but kept his arms snug around her until her own breath steadied. When her blood stopped pounding in her ears, and she felt that she wouldn't embarrass herself by falling over, Jane slid her hand into Thor's and led him toward the kitchen.

Darcy stood at the island counter, setting out plates and cups and silverware. She flashed Jane a knowing smile and told them that the food was still going to be a few minutes. Guiding her with a hand pressed at her back, Thor ushered Jane to one of the two bar stools tucked beneath the edge of the counter top, and beckoned Darcy to take the other one. When they were seated, he detached a small dark leather pouch that had rested unnoticed at the back of his armor.

"I have gifts for both of you" he said, and dipping his hand in briefly before offering an object wrapped in dark blue cloth to Darcy. It wasn't very large; perhaps five inches long and four deep. Appearing deeply surprised, Darcy opened her gift slowly, working the knots in the cloth with great care before uncovering a beautiful little wooden jewelry box. The lid was carved with what Jane knew to be Yggdrasil, and inlaid with gold and a shiny material that reminded Jane of mother-of-pearl, but was more vibrant. The sides were carved with an intricate design that Jane didn't recognize.

"It's really pretty. Wow, no one's ever given me anything like this" Darcy said, opening the hinged lid carefully. The inside was divided into four sections and lined with what looked like blue velvet. "Thank you." She hopped off the stool and gave him a quick hug which he returned.

"I am glad it pleases you." The blond giant replied and explained that the interwoven runes lining the sides of the box were charms against theft. Darcy was deeply moved by the gift, nearly tearing up as she ran her fingers over every inch of it, grinning widely. She was always like that about gifts, though. She had gotten all choked up on her birthday when Jane had given her a corny mug with the words 'World's Greatest Assistant' printed on it.

Jane looked up as Thor held out a small bundle wrapped in white cloth and tied with silver ribbon. He looked… eager. Sweet and adoring, warm and strong and everything that she had never known she wanted. And the way he was holding that little parcel out to her somehow made him look more like a little boy offering a ragged flower to his crush, rather than a warrior-prince from another world offering a prettily wrapped present to his woman.

The cloth was incredibly soft against her fingertips, and silver ribbon slid apart at the slightest tug. She would tuck both away, she thought, in the little memory box her mother had given her, that she kept hidden beneath her bed.

As the layers of white silk fell away, Jane felt tears again begin to well in her eyes. Nestled in her palm lay an iridescent, rainbow-hued stone about the size of a quail's egg, rounded but roughly hewn. Silver wire had been woven around the stone to secure it to a thin, braided chain. Running a finger over its surface, Jane found that while it looked rough, it felt smooth as glass.

"I could not take you to see the bridge," Thor told her softly, "So I thought that perhaps I might bring a piece of it to you."

"This is beautiful, Thor" she murmured, awed at both by the beauty of the gift and the thoughtfulness in the gesture. Because Thor was the prince of Asgard; it was very likely that he had ample access to ruby, emerald, or diamond encrusted anything. But he had chosen this, a piece of the bridge that he had promised to show her; demonstrating again how he always kept his word. "Would you put it on me?"

Thor was glad to oblige, working the simple clasp as Jane lifted her hair away. She hadn't been sure before, but glancing down at were the pendant rested on the swell of her breasts, she was certain that it emanated a faint light that was reflecting off of her shirt.

She thanked him with a very thorough kiss which made Darcy giggle.

"Darcy, is something burning?" Jane's eyes snapped to her assistant who leapt off her bar stool, set her little box down, and rushed around the counter like a mad chicken, crying as she went

"The pizza!"

"How on earth have you not burned down your dorm room?"

"I told the advisor that it was a bad idea to assign me one with a kitchenette," she said, carefully lifting out the pies and setting them on the counter to cool "Mostly I just use the microwave."

Fortunately the food was only a little scorched and Darcy was quick to remind Jane of her promise to have dinner on the patio rather than inside. At this time of day, the back would be well shaded. Between the three of them it was one quick trip to get the bulk of everything outside, with Darcy rushing back in for drinks.

The back patio ran the length of the house as the front one did, but was twice-and-a-half as deep, so that a bit more than half of it was not protected by the overhang. It was paved with wide slabs of terra cotta tile, roughly cut and pieced together like a puzzle. The tile theme continued from the porch to a wide, square section of the yard about twelve or so feet out from the last step of the porch. At the center of this was a large fire pit made from rough stone slabs fit together and topped with smooth slate. It was about two feet high, and four across.

It was Jane's favorite part of the back yard, and one that she and Darcy had utilized frequently during Jane's forced time off.

Today, however, she wasn't ready to break out the firewood. Today she wanted to use the deck furniture that she and Darcy had fallen in love with in Santa Fe during an enforced vacation by Warden Pepper during Jane's two week convalescence after the explosion, and before she was able to start physical therapy. The table was a large, rectangular affair, with a solid wrought iron frame, and topped with decorated tiles in reds and whites. It matched almost perfectly with the chairs that she had got to go around her fire pit and she sometimes suspected that she had been _led_ to it by some skillful manipulation on Pepper's part.

The chairs were also wrought iron, and were softened by plush red cushions. When the weather was good, and Jane was not needed at the Portal Hangar, and yet did not want to utilize her lab in-town, she and Darcy would take to the back yard with everything they could carry. Laptops, research notes, notebooks, pens and pencils, and Darcy's school books would be spread out to completely encompass the table as they both worked. Darcy had even set up a coffee station on the side board she had found and put by the back door.

Sometimes they would stay out there long after sunset, working by the light of computer screens and the lantern style porch lamps that hung from the overhang.

"Food, yay," Darcy sighed, carefully levering several slices onto her plate "Ouch, hot."

"Wait for it to cool first," Jane laughed

"I can't, I haven't eaten all _day_."

"I told you to get something for breakfast." Jane laughed again, claiming her own pieces and sitting down. Thor had taken the head of the table, and was casting critical eyes between Jane and the four slices that she had put on his plate. Trying to figure out, she thought, how to eat it without getting yelled at. Choosing to wait and observe, he took the can that Darcy had set in front of him and eyed the top quizzically.

"I was… busy" Darcy said, a blush rising in her face "You open it like this, Thor." She took her can of soda and pulled at the tab. Thor mimicked her with greater care than probably necessary, and took a large gulp. Both Jane and Darcy started snickering when his face twisted abruptly from curiosity to disgust. He choked it down and stared at the beverage accusingly,

"What in the name of Asgard _is_ this vile concoction?"

"C-Coca-cola." Darcy snickered, "Oh gosh, I wish I had my phone. That _face_!"

"Don't have soda pop in Asgard? Here, give that to me. I'll get you some coffee." Jane giggled, taking the open can from him and setting her unopened one aside. While pizza and coffee weren't what she thought of as a particularly appetizing combination, she had a feeling that Thor would like it. Fortunately, her assistant had the forethought to make a pot while she and Thor had been otherwise occupied.

When she returned to the table, Thor had already devoured two of his pieces and was starting on the third. He apparently approved heartily of the pizza, feeling that it was a meal fit for warriors. He thanked her for the mug she sat in front of him, grinning when she reminded him not to smash it.

_His manners have improved a lot since that first breakfast_, Jane thought. She remembered being vaguely disgusted by the way he had wolfed down the breakfast she had bought him at the diner. He had been so strange; angry, demanding, imperious and, at the same time, chivalrous. There had been moments she had wanted desperately to slap him and others where she had found him unbearably charming.

When he had charged, metaphorical guns blazing, into the plastic city _S.H.I.E.L.D. _had built around _Mjolnir_, she hadn't thought he was brave. She had thought he was insane. But then the Destroyer had come, and she had watched him help evacuate the thrown; commanding drivers to wait until their truck beds were loaded with passengers, guiding panicked citizenry, scooping up frightened children and rushing them to waiting cars.

Calm and determined, focused but never cold. He was passionate about everything he did; whether it was sitting on her roof and telling her about Asgard, or striding out to meet his death at the hands of a thing far larger and stronger than he was.

She smiled now, watching him ask Darcy all sorts of questions about her school, what she studied, how she liked her instructors. Fond of her, Jane thought, feeling no jealousy. He looked at Darcy the same way Jane did; like a younger sibling… or a pet. She wasn't sure which view was winning just at the moment.

There would be more days like this one. The three of them sitting around a table, talking and laughing; Thor's hand seeking hers on the tabletop, Darcy whining about finals. There would be evenings spent outside, roasting hotdogs over the fire pit, and seeing what Thor thought of s'mores.

Due course? She could live with that.

* * *

><p>Dark had fallen by the time that Darcy bid them farewell, assuring Jane that she was not too tired to make the long trek back to her dormitory. Jane worried after her like a mother hen, making certain that she had all of her school things, making her promise to stop along the way if she became too weary, making her promise to 'text' when she arrived. They had grown closer in his absence, and he enjoyed being able to see for himself the way they looked after one another.<p>

He waited for her now in the central living area of the home that the Iron Warrior and his mate had gifted to Jane. It was a comfortable chamber, he thought. The floor was comprised of a sturdy tile squares of a mottled sandy color, the ceiling was richly stained wood beams over white-washed planks. There was a large fireplace set into one wall, with an assortment of deep sofas and chairs set before it.

Small tables set up here and there provided space for small personal items, which drew Thor's interest. A framed image of Jane, Darcy and a red-headed woman that he assumed was Stark's intended, sat beside a rough clay figurine of two canines curled together. A little, leafy plant sat in a painted pot on a table by one of the large windows that characterized the house. There were several thin, garishly printed books lying on a low, square table before the fireplace; Stark's image was on the topmost one along with the woman from the framed portrait.

"Want to see the rest of the house?" He turned at the voice, and found her standing just within the room's arched entrance. She was smiling, but her face was pale and drawn. He had thought that she appeared tired in the afternoon, before they had left the base, but now she looked as though she might collapse at any moment.

In truth, he wasn't much far behind her.

It had been a strange yet wonderful day, and though his heart was full and light, his body was beginning to feel the weight of fatigue. Fighting his way through Jane's _Bifröst _had been difficult, so say the least. Without the aid of the Captain and the Iron Warrior, he very much doubted that even his great strength alone would have been enough to make it through. After, he had been too preoccupied to recognize just how much of his strength he had used in the crossing.

Battling the soldiers of _S.H.I.E.L.D._ while mortal had not tired him as much as Jane's Bifröst had done.

"Another day, I think. You are tired, _Elskling_; you must rest." He explained gently, crossing to her. She leaned into his arms with a sigh, resting her head against his shoulder. He would have to acquire clothing from this realm, something that would allow him to feel her when she was pressed close to him like this. "There will be ample time to explore our home when I return from Fury's training mission."

"It's only for a few days," she sighed, "But I really wish you weren't going."

"I, as well, but I will return. I will always return to you." He kissed the top of her head, ran a hand over her hair. "Will you allow me to rest beside you tonight?"

"Only tonight?" She asked, looking up at him with those lovely brown eyes. For a moment it was all he could do not to scoop her up and a find the bedroom— any bedroom. But the fatigue in her face stilled him. He would not be a beast, he would not be selfish. Jane's comfort and welfare came far above his desires. He would be a gentleman, and he would be patient, until Jane was ready to accept him as her lover.

"I will gladly share your bed any and every night you allow me the privilege" he murmured catching her lips in a soft, chaste kiss.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Comments<strong>_**: **_

**Update: **This chapter has been beta'd. Big thank-you to Lcsaf for her hard work and patience: especially for the work, this chapter had a _lot_ of mistakes.

I should have made a note of this in the last chapter but, better late than never: I will provide translations to all the Norwegian words I use… _after_ Jane gets Thor to tell her what he keeps calling her. That's storyline, so I don't want to spoil it yet.

Also, I haven't forgotten the gift that Hogun sent for Jane, it's just didn't work for this chapter.

A great big Thank You to both my translators, **all-in-the-past** and **immiD**. You both will probably be hearing from me again soon o^^o

Tony and Pepper are like the fairy godmother from Ella Enchanted (the book, mind you), they give you things whether you want them or not. Jane adores Pepper, and finds her presence very calming… when Pepper isn't driving her nuts, that is.

Also please let me know about any spelling errors you catch; my keyboard and I still aren't getting along. Now instead of dropping T's, it's switching them with Rs. So instead of writing 'our home' I kept writing 'out home'. I think it might be possessed.


	11. The Boyfriend's Back: Part One

**Chapter 11: **The Boyfriend's back, Part 1

* * *

><p>Contrary to Darcy's telephonic prediction, Jane did not spend the days of Thor's absence in an unkempt state of depression. She refused to mope about the house like a lovesick teenager, no matter how much she kind of wanted to. The success of the portal didn't mean the work was done, especially considering the difficulty that Thor had crossing it, so Jane intended to use the time productively by burying herself in reports, notes, algorithms, and the mound of paper work that couldn't be pawned off on lesser scientist (and thusly piled up to frightening proportions).<p>

Unfortunately those hopes were dashed rather abruptly by Coulson who requested, in that infuriatingly polite way of his, to work from her town-lab for a while. He had not told her why, though she could give an educated guess, and had promised that if she write up a list of everything she needed he would have everything delivered to her personal research lab first thing the following morning. A video link could be established with all the departments if she should need to consult extensively with anyone.

So Jane, still unwilling to mope yet unable to work properly, fell back on the tried-and-true catch-me-up on all the domestic things the generally put off until she had nothing to do. First she called the company that Stark had suggested about a security fence and made arrangements for a man to come out the following day and survey the area. Then she cleaned the house from top to bottom, did all the laundry, watered Darcy's plants, and swept up the patio.

Distraction came in the afternoon with a surprise phone call from Erik who had heard of Thor's return. She'd felt ridiculously delighted with the call and had settled in to tell her father-figure all about it. It was the first time in months that he had sounded so focused on something other than his classified project.

"Are you… together?" He had asked, sounding a little embarrassed.

"Oh, he's off somewhere doing something for our employers." She laughed a little, "He'll be back in a few days."

"That's not what I meant Jane," Erik scolded, "Is he back for _you_?"

"Yes" she replied, not really needing to think it over. For all her neurotic doubts and worries, she knew that Thor had fought his way through the portal in order to get to _her_. "If you call back in a few days, you can play the stern parent and give him the '_if you hurt my daughter I hurt you,'_ speech you've been trying to perfect since I was seventeen or eighteen."

"Eighteen, and Thor could break me in half with one hand," he laughed, "but I might do."

They spent more than an hour talking about Thor and Darcy's studies, and Jane had set her cell phone down feeling a great deal less worried than she'd been in months. Erik was all right, he wasn't working himself to death.

She spent a large part of the evening on the phone to Pepper who, unable to reach Tony, had called Jane in order to gush about the dress she had found. The bride-to-be was returning to the States soon, but not to New Mexico. Not for a while at least. The Stark Tower project was getting to a point in construction where at least one of them needed to be close by to keep an eye on things, not to mention all the details of the wedding.

"You're not trying to do all of it yourself, are you? Why don't you have a wedding planner?" Jane had asked.

"I have an army of them." Pepper replied seriously, "Tony insisted on it after the first panic attack."

"His or yours?"

"His. They're really more like assistants or consultants than planners. I'm just not comfortable handing the details of my wedding over to other people to arrange."

"You have control issues."

"You're one to talk" she had laughed brightly "But it _is_ nice having someone to delegate tasks to and to get opinions from. The only thing Tony is picky about is the band and the food. Speaking of my dear husband-to-be, I received a very interesting video from him yesterday…"

"What vide— Oh." Embarrassment was a dish that was becoming quite familiar to her, and she curled up in her chair and groaned into her hands as Pepper's bright laughter filled the earpiece on her head.

"Don't be like that. He promised me that I'm the only one he sent it to. Whether he deleted it like I asked is… debatable, but I know he wouldn't have sent it to anyone else. I _asked_ him to film your grand reunion, Jane, since I couldn't be there."

"I'm still going to kill him." Jane replied sourly "I hope you don't mind."

"Why put in the effort? Just get him to kiss you again and your new boyfriend will do all the killing for you."

"There's an idea." Jane fidgeted with the blanket over her lap for a minute before asking, "So, um, how did you know about that?"

The woman on the phone didn't sound the least bit angry or upset, but it was difficult to tell with Pepper sometimes. "Tony told me. Don't worry about it, okay? You know how he is. He gets a new playmate and he just can't wait to see how far he can push things."

"He's not going to try that with Dr. Banner, is he? Because that would be-"

"Incredibly stupid and dangerous? Oh, believe me, he's already started. I think they've undergone some sort of super-geek bonding process. Five minutes of technobable with the guy and Tony asked me if we could keep him. I had to explain that Bruce is a colleague, not a puppy."

"It's probably refreshing to have at least one person not afraid of him. I can tell you that the conference room got really tense when he was introduced." Jane winced a little, thinking of her own reaction "If he joins the league on a permanent basis, we'll both be seeing a lot of him. I just don't' know, Pepper. I mean, Thor is incredibly strong, but strong enough to survive the Hulk?"

"I have the same concerns too, believe me. Tony is always working on ways to improve the Ironman suit's durability but it's far from Hulk proof. As far as I know, nothing is." Pepper sighed, "But it isn't often that I see him take to someone the way he has to Bruce, not outside of Rhodey and I; even you and Darcy. I know it's good for him to be able to talk to someone who is on the same wavelength as he is, and Bruce is nice. He's really nice, in an awkward sort of way. It's hard to look at him and think that he could ever… you know. I'm really not sure how to feel about it all."

Jane blew out a breath, thinking back to the man who had sat across from her the day before. She could admit that she didn't really know a lot about Bruce Banner, save for the fact that he was the enormous green monster known as the Hulk, and a few alarming rumors that circulated around the scientific community. She had to admit that it was difficult to equate the man she had met with the creature shown in news clips.

The Hulk's powers would undoubtedly be an asset to any ally he might have. As far as Jane knew, nothing could hurt him and there was virtually nothing he couldn't smash to bits with his great strength. The big question was; would he be an ally of the Avengers, or would he go nuts and try to kill them all?

How did you go about befriending something as savage as that? Surely Fury wouldn't have attempted to recruit him if he believed it impossible. On the other hand, what Fury did and why was a constant mystery to her.

The two women ended the conversation after discussing various plans for Pepper's wedding shower. Jane wasn't sure she liked the idea of traveling all the way to New York for a hen party, but liked Pepper enough to submit to the inconvenience. The woman had done a lot for her after all, and Darcy would be going along which meant that she wouldn't have to navigate the Big Apple on her own. She had lived in out in the boonies so long, the thought of a crowded city was a little intimidating.

Day two of Avenger Training Camp was spent first with the surveyor for the fence, and then in a three-hour video conference with departments of the portal team. The whole base had been closed down with only certain personnel able to enter and leave, while S.H.I.E.L.D. conducted interviews. The general thought was that the prankster must have struck again, but no one seemed to know what the prank had been. A continual rumor she heard, however, was that Jane's life had been directly threatened and that was why she was being kept away.

For her part, the astrophysicist tried to keep the rumors down by assuring those she spoke to that if her life _had _been directly threatened, she would probably have been whisked away to a safe-house somewhere far away from the base. A more likely reason for the precaution was that Coulson was a worrywart, and overly concerned for her personal safety due to her personal connection with a man who could call down lightning.

This settled a few feathers on the base and allowed everyone she spoke with to concentrate on work (most especially poor Ryo), but left Jane feeling unsettled and edgy. The hostility that she had harbored for Phil Coulson had faded over the years. She would have to say that she considered him as a friend, somewhat reluctantly, and trusted him a great deal… also reluctantly. So _was _he just being extremely cautions, or had he found something in the lounge after she and Thor left.

Maybe, probably, he had or he wouldn't have blocked her from the base and assigned her extra guards.

It was inconvenient, but not all bad. She didn't get to utilize her personal lab much anymore; it was still her preferred working space. Despite her efforts, it had not remained untouched by S.H.I.E.L.D; the windows had been replaced by bullet-proof glass and there were high-grade electronic locks on all the doors. These were small changes that she could live with, but the core of the place; the motley assortment of cluttered tables, desks, shelves and chairs remained, living harmoniously with the lovely computer upgrades that Stark had eventually talked her into.

He might be childish and annoying, but there was no denying the brilliance of Tony Stark. He had been both admiring and somewhat condescending of her kludged-together equipment, and had led to a fun little side-project of refining the designs.

As good as his word; Coulson had her requested materials in her lab before she'd even finished with the surveyor and so she was able to kill most of the day getting her personal lab up-to-date with her base lab, and see what needed to be sorted out before she took time off. It was all a great deal harder to do without Darcy, who now knew her filing system better than she did. It was a little scary how much she had come to rely on dreamy little Darcy for so many things.

Scarier still was the fact that she _knew_ that this revelation happened every time midterms or finals came up only to be blocked from her memory afterward. She didn't care much for the fact that she was taking time off as much to spend time with Thor and help get him settled as because Darcy wouldn't be returning to work until the end of the following week.

The third day saw Jane wandering through the grocery store with more in her cart that she had ever bought before. Normally she and her absent assistant were on the microwave and take-out system but with Thor due to return the following day, Jane had been entertaining the idea of exercising the cooking skills she had gleaned in the days after her mother's death but before Erik had stepped in. The only question left was; what did one feed an Asgardian prince?

Right there was one of those little things that made her anxious; how could Thor possibly be satisfied with the simple and basic things she was capable of making when he had probably been reared on prime roasted boar and who knew what else? She just kept remind herself, when she felt hysterics rising up, that Thor had seemed to enjoy that simple breakfast she had made two years ago, and that he had taken to pizza like an old pro. So long as he didn't smash all her dishes, everything would be fine.

By the time she went through the checkout line, she was feeling confident and nearly impatient. Thor couldn't come home soon enough.

The parking lot was significantly fuller than when she had left, and the late afternoon sun reflected blindingly off the small pond of cars. She was glad that she had beaten the rush and scored a parking spot around the corner were the building would cast her van in the shade. It would be good to get home, she thought. Unload the groceries, take a long bath. Maybe she would go all girly and give herself a pedicure or something.

She wasn't sure when Thor was due to get in, but thought that it would probably be either extremely early in the morning or extremely late in the evening. _I forgot to give him a key to the house before he left, too, _she realized. She'd had one cut at the same time as Darcy's, but she had been so exhausted that when he had left in the morning she had only woken long enough to kiss him and ask that he come back safe. _So_, Jane wondered, _Should I leave the door unlocked tonight_? With the posting of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents around her house, it was probably fairly safe to do. _Or should I pass the key to one of the nightshift to give to him._

Overcomplicating things, she scolded. Her S.H.I.E.L.D. guard, when Coulson decided she needed one, always had a set of keys to her house so that they could 'clear' it and sequester themselves around the property before she pulled in. Though it was probably unnecessary, she would talk to whoever was hiding in her outbuildings and make sure someone knew to meet him at the door with the keys if he should arrive in the wee hours of the morning.

So deep was she in her musings that she didn't hear the vocalization of her name at all. She didn't even register the presence of a person walking close until fingers clamped onto her upper arm. Instinctively Jane released the cart, lifted her arm and twisted sharply, bringing her elbow back and breaking the hold then snapping the heel of her hand forward into the man's cheek. Probably it was the surprise rather than the force of her palm that sent the male stumbling back awkwardly against the hood of a nearby car.

"Jane! Jane, it's me!" Donald held one hand up in surrender, while the other covered the side of his face where she had struck him. He looked, she thought, a bit stunned. Or she had grown a second head, which wasn't impossible given how divided her thoughts suddenly became. While it would be sweet and romantic to say that she hadn't spared a thought for Donald since Thor's return, it wouldn't be entirely true. However, the situation _had_ faded to the back of her mind in lieu of the sudden change in her life and all the exhilaration, longing and fear that came with it. She was looking at the future rather than the past, which was a good thing, except that the past refused to _go away_.

"What do you think you're doing?" she snapped, folding her arms and mustering up a great deal of indignation.

"Trying to get your attention," he replied, picking himself off the hood of the car. His fingers probing the reddening mark forming over his cheekbone amid a lot of wincing. _You're overdoing it a little, _Jane though as she watched the show, _I'm not going to apologize. In fact, I wish I'd hit you harder._ "Ouch. Where did you learn that?"

_From a spy_, she was tempted to say. The move was something Coulson had shown her ages back, before the base's foundation was even complete, though she couldn't remember why. Something they had discussed or something that had happened. It was all indistinct now, but she would be thanking him the next time she saw him. To Donald she said only, "Self-defense class, senior year. Erik insisted on it."

"It's very effective" he replied and smiled pleasantly, the sort of smile he'd flash his patients, glanced around and promptly changed the subject "Your shadow doesn't seem to be around today."

"Obviously not." At least not the one he meant. She thought that she could see a S.H.I.E.L.D. car parked discreetly three rows away and though it was impossible to see through the sun glinting off the rear windshield, she knew that the agents within were watching. It ought to have made her feel safe, but really it only made for more anxiety.

"I don't see the fabled boyfriend either." Though his tone remained the mild, affable droll he used with his patients there was a hint of smugness beneath. Whatever he read in her face (and most likely misinterpreted) caused him to chuckled, "I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. Your… assistant dropped by yesterday and-"

"Told you that he was arriving in town, right?" _Oh Darcy_, she thought with a mental sigh. Of course, she had suspected it was something like that, but hearing it stated as a fact put everything into a new light. She wasn't sure if she was touched at the lengths her friends would go to look out for her, or concerned over the fact that they were so willing to sneak around and lie. Speaking of lying, "Something came up with his family and he had to postpone the trip."

His face didn't seem to have any marks on it other than the slight one she had just put there. Although, she did notice some slight darkening around one of his eyes that might have been a bruise and might have been lack of sleep. She'd have to get a closer look to be certain which, and that wasn't going to happen.

Donald rolled his eyes, "Don't you think you two have carried this far enough?"

"Carried what far enough?"

"This whole story you've cooked up! The _mysterious_ boyfriend from out of state, always away taking care of some family obligations…" he laughed, "Janie please, you've never even once said his name."

That was true. Neither she nor Darcy ever referenced Thor by name. Until a few days ago, his human identity hadn't been established and Jane didn't care to have Donald equate her boyfriend with the Avengers. At the time she had figured that Donald would give up his quest and leave her alone long before he ever had the chance to meet Thor face-to-face.

"His name-" now, though, it seemed like giving him the false name was a moot point. Donald wasn't going to accept that she had moved on until Thor was standing in front of him, and possibly not even then. She had once admired Donald's ambition, the way he strove for what he wanted and never accepted defeat. It had been one of the things that had drawn her to him, and then driven her from him. She now realized that that he wasn't ambitious, he was a spoiled child who had to have his way. "No. No, I'm not doing this anymore."

"Finally," He declared, lifting his hands dramatically and letting them fall, "The truth comes out."

"I don't owe you an explanation about anything. Whether I'm seeing someone or not doesn't matter, because it has no bearing on the fact that I _don't _want to be with you again. It is over between us, Donald, and has been for three years."

"Jane, please, just listen to me-"

"Why should I? When have _you_ ever listened to _me_?" No longer bothering to control her outrage, her voice climbed steadily until she was shouting at him. There was a fragile hope in the back of her mind that if she made enough of a scene, the resulting crowed would embarrass him enough to make him go away "I do not have those feelings for you anymore. _I _do not want to be your friend, girlfriend, or fiancée. I _do not_ want to be with you again, in any way, ever. Do you understand?"

"I understand that you're angry," he said, falling firmly into his _calm-the-patient_ tone "and I understand that you were unhappy and that maybe I… I didn't take that seriously enough but I promise that things will be different this time. I won't work as much, I'll be home more… and we'll do more things together like you wanted; I bought hiking gear… and I won't propose again. I know that it was too soon, and you weren't ready."

For a full minute, Jane couldn't speak. She just stared at Donald, standing there like he had just delivered the winning argument in a courtroom drama. His shoulders were squared, his face set into the small smile that had once seemed charming. Finally she gasped a breath and sputtered, "Y-you seriously- didn't you hear- My _God_, Donald, what realm do you live in?"

Fists clenched so tightly that the knuckled were bone white, Jane fought to restrain her temper once again. Shouting didn't work with Donald any more now than it had years ago, and the parking lot was too barren to draw more than curious looks from the few passersby. All useful bodies were still in the store, and oblivious to her predicament. She took another deep breath, forced her hands open, grasped her kart and doubled her pace toward her van.

But he still followed, voice dripping with patience as he continued to reason with her. The more he talked, the more she fumed. The thought of Thor stepping in wasn't even appealing anymore, nor did she want Stark or Coulson to do so. What she wanted was to win this _one_ fight. To finally get Donald to understand and acknowledge what she was saying and to leave on his own and not bother her again. Was that really so unreasonable?

Yes, apparently it was.

Things were no different now than they had been at the time she had left. Nothing she said ever made a difference, volume didn't seem to matter, cold logic had no effect and they just kept circling around and around the same points. Once Donald decided how something should be, nothing else mattered, and he was never going to accept that they were over no matter how many times or how many ways she said it.

If trying to move out in the middle of the night while he was at work hadn't gotten the message through, Jane feared that nothing would. An errant thought sent a spasm of dread coursing down her spine; that this tug-of-war might just go on for the rest of her life. That at every turn, just when she thought things were going smoothly, _there_ he would be, climbing out of that stupid silver car all smiles and _I need you, I miss you, we belong together and-_

"I love you, Janie." Donald was saying, and the astrophysicist felt the dread chilling against her back turn to revulsion. Love could be many things, but it certainly wasn't _this_. "You can't just tell me it's over and expect me to just _accept _it, not without even telling me why!"

"Yes, I can." Jane replied shortly, trying to ignore the feeling of wrongness that prickled over her scalp. He had said those exact words the night a busybody neighbor's call had caused him to rush home from his shift to find her hurriedly carrying boxes, bags, and armloads of stuff out to her van.

That same van came into view now, tucked between a shiny new SUV and an ancient blue pickup truck. Working for Stark, she could have easily requested a newer and more elaborate vehicle, but she had found that she was extremely attached to this one. Guiding the cart down the curb and around the other cars, Jane quickly dug out her keys.

"Give me something, Jane, please. If you don't tell me what I did, how can I fix it?" The frustration in his tone was becoming more prominent, unusual in a man who was so controlled. In fact, she thought, he was nearly sounding desperate.

"We've been through the whys already," not that he ever listened. If he didn't hear what he wanted, he just played deaf, "again and again. I've-"

"-moved on, yes, the fabled boyfriend." He shook his head, sighing pointedly. That hadn't been what Jane was going to say, but she didn't correct him. Twice now he had brought up 'the boyfriend' directly. A man that he didn't believe existed- no, that wasn't right. A man he didn't _want_ to exist. "That's an awful lot of groceries for one person." He muttered, gazing down at the cart as though seeing it for the first time.

There was no way that the key to getting Donald back off was to give him proof of a new relationship. If that was the answer, she could have spared herself a lot of stress by having one of Coulson's men or, heck, even Coulson himself pose as Thor for a few weeks. Show him that she had moved on with someone else and, what, he just walks away? Just like that? She wanted to hope that there was an end to the drama, but this seemed way too good to be true.

"Three people;" she said slowly, casually, watching his face "Me, Darcy and… Kain."

There was a sort of twitching around his eyes, and she watched his jaw clench briefly before he stated, "Erik's come for a visit, hasn't he?" He laughed a little, "Of course, you always make those strange meatball things when he stays with you."

_Maybe it will be that simple_, she thought. Jane was nearly certain that he was at least a little concerned that she wasn't lying after all. Why was it such a concern now, though? Always when she tried telling him that she was seeing someone, he would dismiss the subject usually either implying or directly stating that he didn't believe her. Why was today different, why was it bothering him today? She couldn't see Darcy's impromptu visit planting seeds of doubt in that rock-hard resolve of his, nor could she really think of anything particularly unique about the circumstances.

Despite his utterly off-base explanation for it, maybe there was something to the amount of groceries that somehow solidified the possibility. Or perhaps it the appearance of a necklace around her neck after she had continuously shunned the jewelry he had given her when they were together. Perhaps there was just something in her bearing, a subtle change that had occurred after her reunion with the man she had spent two years searching for.

Whatever it was, Jane couldn't be certain if she was grateful for it, or severely annoyed. _What I am, _she thought, _is picky. An hour ago I was more than ready to toss Thor at him, now I'm pissed because that's what it's going to take to get the message through. _For some reason the possibility that Jane was capable of being with someone else was the only thing that tripped up his grand plan somehow. It was like Donald was teetering between two extremes; tip one way and whatever it was that had sparked his return would blow out like a snuffed candle and he would lose all interest, but tip the other way-

His behavior right now only just paralleled what an internet search considered stalking, but there weren't that many more steps to go before he crossed the line. For some it would be a potentially fatal situation, for Jane it was only a bit alarming. Because if he did cross that line, even a little then either Thor, Stark, or a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent would put Donald down. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

For now she decided that further conversation was pointless and the silent treatment, while childish, was perhaps the best defense she had. There had been ground gained on her end, or so she felt, but further argument might cause those results to backslide. She was tired and tense, and Donald was _still _talking. Just conversation now; the doings of former acquaintances, former neighbors, and hospital staff she had been familiar with. When the last bag was securely loaded, she shut the door firmly and hurried to the cart return without a word.

As undaunted by her cold shoulder as he seemed to be by her anger, Donald remained at the back of the van, hands in his pockets, waiting diligently for her. The telltale signs of strain in his face had faded. Beside her vehicle, the blue truck started up and began to back out. She waited for him, waving with as much polite enthusiasm as she could muster when she recognized the driver as a regular from the Diner, and started for her car door as soon as he was past.

Jane only made it about three steps before she noticed something dangling from her driver's side mirror. Breezing past Donald, she examined the object; a velvety jewelry box with a bit of ribbon clamped in the lid and tied in a bow around the arm of the mirror, closely before fairly ripping it down. The man just didn't learn, did he? Cursing silently, she stormed back to her ex and fairly shoved the little box in his face,

"I told you not to bring me gifts anymore!"

Donald's hands lifted in supplication once again as he shook his head, "That wasn't from me, I swear, I- that is, I _did_ bring you something. It's in the car, if you'd like me to go get it." He smiled tentatively, she ignored him.

"If it isn't from you then who…?" Rage fading, Jane turned the velvety box over in her hands, gave it a cautious little shake, and gently pried the lid open. Tucked inside lay a little keychain in the form of a beer stein shaped like a pair of lederhosen, definitely not something Donald would ever have given her. Who on earth would have left something like this on her car mirror? Then the small stone around her neck shifted on its chain just a little as she moved and she thought, _No, no way. When Fury said three days, he meant three days. _But her heart was beating little faster, and hope was uncurling inside her chest. Ignoring Donald's snide remarks about novelty gifts, Jane turned sharply to scan the parking lot

And found him standing at the next row of cars, not even fifteen feet away. In blue jeans and a snug T-shirt, he stood tall and strong and so gorgeous with his arms folded across his chest and _that_ smile lighting his handsome face. Her stomach fluttered wildly and she stared, dumbstruck, at the sight. Perhaps because he was in regular clothing, instead of his armor, or because he was just _there_ when she knew very well he shouldn't be. She just kept waiting for the vision to disappear.

"Ho, Jane Foster, how goes the day?"

The warm tenor of his voice broke over her senses, pulling her from whatever stupor she had been caught in. She rushed him, pouncing like a lioness to the sound of his delighted laughter, adhering to him with arms and legs. One forearm beneath her hips held her aloft with ease while the other slid up her back. At once, all the tension in her body drained away; every ounce of anxiety and frustration was swept clean and replaced by a feeling of safety and contentment so strong it made her dizzy.

Mouths met with exuberance, with playful greeting and building passion. His hair was soft against her palms, his fingertips rough against the back of her neck. When they parted it was only so he could lay his forehead to hers and, closing vivid blue eyes tightly, sigh with as much serenity as she felt "I have missed you, _min elskede._"

"Oh, did you go somewhere?" she giggled when she felt a gentle pinch on her backside, felt her heart skip when he grinned up at her "I can't believe you're home, I didn't think you'd be back until tomorrow. When did you get in?" and how much had he overheard? "How… long have you been here?"

"Long enough," Though it was said lightly; his eyes flashed a deep, stormy blue and flickered very briefly behind her. Inwardly she groaned, ticking off the mental list of things she hadn't wanted to tell him about just yet; like her brief engagement. Oh well, perhaps it was better to get the humiliation over with. Reading her expression, Thor's smile gentled, and he caressed her temple with his thumb, "You are most breathtaking when your temper is roused."

_And they called his brother silver-tongued. _"You're only saying that because I haven't had to chew you out for anything yet." She laughed

"Have you not? I seem to recall quite a storm over a broken cup." He grinned, "I found you rather fetching then as well."

"That wasn't anger, it was irritation" she replied, feeling heat creep up her neck "And maybe a little fear. I still thought you might be a crazy homeless man."

"You were not entirely wrong." He set her down as effortlessly as she might set down a glass of water, but with such great care. "Be wary, then, of casting your wrath toward me just yet, my Jane. I might find it too enticing a sight to conduct myself in a civilized manner." With that he kissed her again, thoroughly, and looped her hand through the crook of his arm, "Shall we bid your friend farewell before we return to the comfort of our home? I am eager to continue our reunion in more private surroundings."

Still reeling from the obvious, and somewhat intriguing, implications he'd just made, it took her a moment to catch up. And when she did, she was both embarrassed and impressed. _Smooth talker,_ she thought. He had spoken so casually, so plainly and intimately that it had nearly slipped her notice, but the conversation had not been for her alone. Yet he had put no pointed emphasis into his words, nor had he raised his voice in that annoying way people did when they wanted to ensure they were overheard.

Donald had not moved an inch, Jane discovered when she shifted her gaze from Thor; he stood ramrod-straight as though rooted to the spot. His expression was controlled indifference, but she could see the muscles of his jaw working and there was a tension in his shoulders that had not been there before. Then, as they crossed the lane and approached, everything smoothed out and Dr. Blake was ready with his pristine bedside manner. The shift, as often as she had seen it in the past, sent a cold finger of unease down her spine.

Just as quickly, the unease cleared. What did she have to worry about? She was standing next to one of the most powerful being on the planet. Donald was _tiny_ by comparison.

"Donald this is… um… Kain, my-" She hesitated, glancing up at his profile, reaching for the right term. She'd called him her boyfriend before, but she still couldn't help feeling like the term was deficient to describe their relationship, yet they weren't engaged. Thor would probably consider himself her suitor, or some similar antiquated term. A mischievous grin alighted on her features, "-inamorato. Kain this is Donald Blake, my ex." She smiled up at Thor's expression and thought, _teach you to give me pet-names I don't understand. _

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Comments: <strong>

** Update: **This chapter has been edited thanks to my lovely beta Lcsaf. Many, many things wrong (wrong, so wrong) in here, now blissfully corrected.

This chapter was originally supposed to be longer, however an error in the editing process caused me to accidently and irreversibly delete about six hours worth of work. I'll be able to re-write it eventually, but it's got me a little discouraged because I was extremely pleased with how it had been written and there is no way that I'll be able to get it exactly the same. Close, possibly better (possibly not) but not the same.

But, my careless error should not affect you lot, therefore I'm posting the chapter as a pt. 1, the second half to follow. Yes, the Donald/Thor confrontation shall take place next chapter. And possibly some Thor-Jane yumminess.

That being said; is there someone out there who can give me live journal lessons? What with cracking down on certain adult-themes I'd like to have another venue to post the more… explicitly smutty parts of the story _if I write them_. I'm not saying I will, no promises. I might go right up to the watered-down M rating and stop, but I might feel adventurous. Anyone who is well versed in LJ please PM me. So saying… the righting might or might not go up with the next chapter.

Also, when I post the next chapter, I might replace a few of the earlier chapters with better-edited versions. _Nothing major will change_, it'll only fix some spelling and grammar mistakes, and possibly some dialogue issues that have been pointed out. I'll note which chapters have been improved.

As always, thank you to my translators, and to all my wonderful reviewers. Thank you for your continued patience.


	12. The Boyfriend's Back: Part Two

**Chapter 12: **The Boyfriend's Back, Part 2

* * *

><p><strong>Puente Antiguo: A few Minutes earlier <strong>

"I love you, Janie." Donald Blake tried not to put too much emphasis in the words, tried to make them sound factual, effortless, but it still made her shoulders tighten defensively and her mouth pinch with tension. It had been that way since before she had moved out; each declaration of love and commitment seemed to make her withdraw into herself more and more. "You can't just tell me it's over and expect me to just _accept _it, not without even telling me why!"

"Yes," she replied shortly, not so much as glancing his way "I can."

"Give me something, Jane, please" he insisted, following close behind. Where his estranged fiancée was concerned; it was not reason that won the day, but persistence. He simply could not and would not believe that she meant the things she was saying. If she didn't want to be with him again, why had she only gone as far as Puente Antiguo where she was easily accessible? Why hadn't she gone to stay with her father, or Erik? If she truly didn't entertain romantic feelings for him, why did she get so worked up over his visits? "If you don't tell me what I did, how can I fix it?" He ran a hand through his hair, irritated at the emotion that broke through his voice. Restraining the frustration and desperation he felt took more effort, more strength than he cared to admit and Jane's imperious attitude was fast wearing him thin.

"We've been through the whys already, again and again. I've-"

"-moved on, yes, the fabled boyfriend." Donald took a deep breath, struggled to calm down. Why was she fighting him like this? She had to know how much he loved her. The fact that he was here now, that he kept coming back despite her insolent and childish behavior, surely that demonstrated how committed he was. Everything he did was to show her how much he valued her; taking time off of work to drive out to this tiny dump of a town, approaching her only at home or when she wasn't 'working'.

And the gifts he brought her! Artisan flower bouquets, jewelry from Tiffany's, perfumes from France and Italy.

Actions taken to court her again, certainly, but also to remind her how he could take care of her not only in comfort but in luxury; if she would just _come home!_ Unfortunately Jane Foster was a stubborn woman, and always had been. Intelligence and passion might be her best attributes, but obstinacy and impulsiveness were her worst. Regrettably they were flaws that he had never been able to correct, though not for lack of trying.

If it _were_ true, if she was in an established and serious relationship as she claimed, where were the signs of it? While he didn't have access to her phone records and hadn't found an opportunity to peek into her cell phone, she did still maintain the same email address as when they'd lived together. Surely if she were in a steady relationship there would have been some mention of it to Selvig or any one of the college friends she retained contact with. Even emails exchanged with her assistant lacked any mention of 'him'. There were no photographs of her with any unfamiliar men in any of the rooms of her house he had been in so far, neither were there any in her lab or her wallet. The only thing she had was her word and that of a girl who would doubtlessly say anything her employer told her to. There just weren't any facts to lend credence to her story.

Regarding her lack of interest in renewing their relationship, well he didn't believe she was serious about it. Women tended to say anything to have the last word in an argument; even if it meant denying themselves something they really wanted. Yet still, despite his firm doubts, there was this… apprehensive feeling creeping over him. The more they stood there talking, the more anxious he felt.

Was it Jane? There did seem to be something different about her today. He had noticed it on and off in the grocery store, and it struck him again now as she unlocked the back of her van and slid the first bag inside. What _was _it? She didn't lookmuch different than when she had walked out on him; her hair was a bit longer and the ends needed trimming, she had lost some weight too but it wasn't enough to look unhealthy. The blue cotton button-up was new, but the thin black and grey tank tops beneath it were not. Her penchant for too many layers remained, as did his distaste for it.

The necklace was new; some kind of stone, an agate, wrapped in silver wire and hanging on a chain just above the neckline of her shirts. It hadn't been among the things she had brought with her into their house, and he was fairly sure that he hadn't seen it before today.

Agate jewelry was common, cheap and cliché. You could find it everywhere, and most of it was hideous. This piece was clearly the exception to the rule. The stone was like nothing he had ever seen; it had this sheen of color, similar to a moonstone except that it kept its hue no matter what angle you saw it from and seemed to catch and reflect even the softest light. It wasn't smooth, didn't look polished, but still shone almost like a gem. The setting and chain were equally impressive; appearing to be made from a very high grade silver or white gold.

Looking at it made him uneasy. It didn't belong. It wasn't natural, not for her. Always Jane had been uncomfortable with the pretty necklaces and bracelets he bought her. She had said once, when they had argued about it in Boston before their engagement party, that she didn't like the weight on her neck and wrists. That she felt like a dog wearing a leash. In fact she had only worn her engagement ring for fifteen minutes before claiming that it abraded her skin.

So why was she wearing _that_?

Why had she moved into that big house and have brand new computer equipment in her lab that she should never have been able to afford?

Questions, why were there where always questions and never answers?

Jane lifted another bag out of the cart, this one crested with plastic bags of fruit. The sight of it made irritation coil around his spine like a snake on a branch. He couldn't explain why it bothered him so much, the reaction was utterly irrational. After all it was better, healthier to have balanced home cooked meals. Except… why so much? She had enough food for at least five people but her assistant was unlikely to be back in town until the following weekend at the earliest, and she had no one else staying with her.

"That's an awful lot of groceries for one person."

Bare hands hesitated over the brown paper, retreating slowly as that soft face finally turned up toward his. Her expression was calm and nearly blank, but for the eyes. Those eyes were calculating, sharp and inquisitive and he realized that she wasn't so much seeing him as she was studying him, rather like he were one of her star charts. Funny, there had been many a day, back when they had lived together, that he had been desperate for her to look at him with the same intensity, the same earnest interest that she gave to those pointless maps. Having all that keen scrutiny turned on him now though, made him feel transparent and vulnerable, like she were seeing inside of him and he wanted nothing more than for her to look away.

"Three people," she said softly, after what seemed like an eternity "Me, Darcy and…Kain."

Oh, of course she named him now that he had called her out, he thought bitterly. All of this was probably some sort of payback for getting her assistant so upset the other day. It wasn't like he had stepped on her glasses on purpose, it had been an accident. He had only wanted to examine her hand; he hadn't been going to hurt her. The glasses had fallen because she had stumbled away from him so wildly and he hadn't _seen. _That probably wasn't what the little pestilence had told Jane. She had probably grossly exaggerated their discussion and twisted it into something obscene. He knew her type.

But Jane… Jane wasn't like Darcy.

Jane was lovely; bright, stable, and warm. She had her faults, of course, but he knew she could overcome them with time. If she would only… if she would just _listen _to him they could be so happy. Like before. If she wanted to study the stars, that was fine. He had never told her not to, only that her hobbies shouldn't distract her from her other responsibilities. He would buy her the best telescope on the market and she could study from home and write her papers, or whatever it was she wanted to do. And if she wanted to live outside the city, well, there was nothing wrong with a vacation home. His parents had taken weekends at the lake house now and then.

They could work it out. He was willing to compromise.

Staring down at the emptying cart, Donald began to get a peculiar sense of loss. He knew that this fight had gone on too long and that Jane usually saw reason before now. There was also the fact that while her story remained vague, it was always consistent. Not chapter-and-verse consistent either, like she was keeping a story straight. Had three years really passed since they had shared a home? Yes, it had. That meant that it had been about two years since the gas-main explosion that had nearly destroyed the town. Two years since he had begun to… observe her. Honestly it didn't _seem_ like that much time.

The year between when she had left and when he had found her again was hazy at best. He had been devastated of course but, as his father had always said, the world didn't stop simply because you had a bad day. Heeding that advice, Donald had continued to live his life; he had tended to his patients, maintained his exercise regiment and attended social functions.

But life had been empty.

Hollow.

And then, before work one morning, he had turned on the news to see coverage of a tragic accident in Puente Antiguo. The clips had shown broken, burning buildings and the garish figure of Tony Stark in his Ironman contraption helping to search the wreckage for survivors. How could he stay away after that? Seeing her again, after spending hours trapped in the thought that she was either dead or trapped beneath the rubble, it had been like a drug. At first he had only checked on her once a month, and then twice, and then once a week or more.

He had been so certain that the time was right to approach her, to reconcile. He was so _certain_ that she still loved him and all of this was just one of those cruel games that women liked to play. Yet he knew, in the deepest part of himself, that something was off. Why weren't they together yet? All this fighting, all this quarreling… she shouldn't have… by now they should be together. That is how it was supposed to happen. It should never have stretched on like this, day after day. Jane wasn't supposed to have a boyfriend or a snarky quasi live-in assistant, or strange new jewelry.

Neither was she supposed to have a big, airy house or research funding. Or tell him to leave her alone. She should have said that she was sorry and could she please come back home. That she realized how they really had something amazing, and she missed their calm, ordered life that she would now appreciate and be grateful for. And then she _would_ come back with him, and they would have dinner together and she would wear the dresses he had bought for her and put on the perfume he liked and everything would be perfect.

Had he been wrong all this time? Had he been wrong about her?

Light blossomed behind his eyes suddenly, followed by a short moment of dizziness. Donald steeled himself against it, forced his body to remain still and his breathing to stay even. These… episodes had been happening since his late adolescence, but they had quit almost completely when Jane had lived with him, like she had kept them away. These days they were happening more and more frequently and were becoming difficult to hide. As a doctor he knew what the symptoms could represent and what steps he should be taking, the tests he needed to undergo. Yet, after each event, everything would become so much _clearer_.

He saw now all the things that he had missed. All the details his distress had blinded him to. Women were manipulative by nature and though Jane was a clever girl indeed, he was smarter. He saw her through her charade now; Ms. Lewis' taunts, the groceries and even the jewelry… it all made sense. It was a good play, a creative weave of fact and fiction, but there was distinctive pattern: "Erik's come for a visit, hasn't he? Of course, you always make those strange meatball things when he stays with you."

Naturally she would wear something her father figure had give her, at least while he was around.

The woman beside him rolled her eyes, but did not comment. When it became clear that she was not going to respond, Donald moved to fill the silence. He told her about Grace Brown, their next door neighbor who had moved out the month before and about Robert Goods, a man who had belonged to their gym and his recent marriage. He then realized that bringing up weddings might put her off and switched tracks quickly, but his several attempts to ask about Erik's trip were met with silence. Finally he turned to hospital gossip, struggling to recall which nurses she had been friendly with.

The slam of the van door made him trail off, snapping to himself like he'd been in a momentary trance. Jane was walking briskly toward the cart return. He admired the sway of her hips and the way her hair looked in the sunlight. An older man walked by with a small bag in one hand and a case of beer in the other. He nodded to Donald as he passed in a friendly, if somewhat vacant manner. How was she able to stand this little backwater town? He hated it. From the first and only breakfast with her at the diner just a month before she had tried to schlep away in the night to the shitty flea-infested hotel he endured two-to-three nights a week.

The blue truck beside the van started up with a wheezing sort of putter, exhaust spewing foully and it backed out slowly and blocked his view of Jane. Not that it mattered overly much; in a moment she would run on home to that big house and her surrogate father. As much as he hated to, he ought stay in town tonight and try to see her in the morning before he went home. It would be rude of him not to pay his respects to Erik, after all. Without her shadow around to stir things up, she might be in a more placid mood. They might have coffee together before he had to go, and talk civilly for once.

Movement at the corner of his eye caused him to glance over briefly; a tall blond man making his way between the cars. Donald didn't pay him any heed; it was just another local. Business was really picking up from when Jane had stepped out, it must be social hour. Lord, but he hated this town. Every brick and board, every pane of glass and faded truck and he _strongly_ resented Tony Stark for helping to put it all back together. If he had left it in bits, Jane might be more amenable to leaving, rather than digging her heels in like a mule.

Speaking of Jane, he could see her again, walking toward him. She seemed distracted, thoughtful. If he said goodbye first, let her feel as though she had the last word, it might settle her feathers a little and she might be more apt to talk with him peacefully in the morning. He opened his mouth just as she abruptly altered her course, charging to the driver's side door without as much as a by-your-leave. Before he could move out of the path of the van (lest she run him over), Jane was storming back into view with eyes blazing and cheeks flushed unappealingly with anger.

Thrusting something in his face she snapped "I told you not to bring me gifts anymore!"

Putting his hands up in a defensive gesture seemed to be the theme of the day he thought sourly as he assumed the position. "That wasn't from me, I swear, I-" Well, here was thin ice. Probably the box had been left by Selvig, but there was always the possibility that it was a gift from some lovelorn local. If it was the latter, he had little enough to worry about as the set of French aromatherapy bath salts undoubtedly outclassed whatever bauble was tucked into that little velvet case. If it was the former, however, Jane would likely shout at him for upstaging her mentor. Or for not listening to her, or any one of the other dozen reasons she came up with to be cross with him. "That is, I _did_ bring you something. It's in the car if you'd like me to go get it."

The anger calmed, but the suspicions in her eyes only increased as she stepped away. "If it isn't from you, then who?" Frowning she turned the case over in her hands once. There was that look again, he sighed, rolling his eyes skyward and shaking his head. She couldn't just open the damn thing; she had to study it, shake it like a child with a Christmas present and theorize about what it was. Probably had some equation in her head about who was most likely to have left it. He nearly laughed aloud when she did finally lift the lid and he saw what was inside: A keychain of a fancy beer mug trussed up like a pair of silly German pants? Trite, stupid and exactly something Erik would give her.

A little backward to give her the good gift first and save the novelty crap as a surprise. "I'm beginning to think that Erik does all his shopping for you in the airport on the way out. Honestly, the novelty gifts get worse and- Jane?"

The unsettling, cold sensation of something being out of place formed like a hard knot in the pit of his stomach. Why did she keep looking at the keychain like it was some puzzle that needed solving when it had clearly come from Selvig? The man always brought her little trinkets from Germany or Norway or wherever the hell the old man's family lived. Every few years he went to visit and would send her knickknacks that she would coo over for weeks on end. There was no mystery here, just a cute game from her mentor. That was all.

She had spun away from him without a word, but now stood still staring at something straight ahead. Staring, he realized, at where the blond man he had noticed a few moments before now stood. With white teeth gleaming out from a neatly trimmed beard, the man leaned against the back door of a dusty gray minivan. In a deep, faintly accented voice that set Donald's nerves on edge he called out, "Ho, Jane Foster, how goes the day?"

_Ho_, _how goes the day?_ Who in their right mind-

When she moved, Donald couldn't say. He had been so focused on the man he had not noticed Jane's reactions. It only seemed like, very suddenly, she was _throwing_ herself at the newcomer with an enthusiasm that caused and embarrassed flush to rush up Donald's neck. He watched in disgusted, fascinated horror as the two laughed and kissed in a way that was anything but platonic. The blond giant's hand slid up her back until it curved against the back of her head, and there was a level of… of _possession_ in the gesture that Donald could almost feel.

Didn't they have any decorum? Intimate contact had a time and place, it was _not _for public display! Did they not realize they were being stared at? Gawked at like animals in a zoo? Laughed at? How could this man allow Jane to turn them into a spectacle? Despite his own sense of mortification, and the attention of the passersby, Donald found that he couldn't look away from the pair and the careless affection that passed between them.

The seconds ticked on like hours as they stood there; the man holding the woman aloft as they murmured softly to one another as the physician looked on. There was a strange rushing sound in his ears, and it felt as though he had been shoved out of his body somehow, and was watching the whole thing from a distance.

The fair-haired mammoth lowered her to her feet but they remained close, speaking just quietly enough that Donald could only hear a word or two. When Jane rose to her toes to accept another heated kiss, Donald found that he still couldn't look away. His head was spinning; whirling too many thoughts and emotions to name. He felt sick; his stomach clenched and twisted violently and bile stung the back of his throat. The mammoth released her at last, only to tuck her hand into the crook of his arm and say in that detestable raucous voice, "Shall we bid your friend farewell before we return to the comfort of our home? I am eager to continue our reunion in more private surroundings."

The casual, flippant comment struck as it had been intended and revulsion poured through the doctor, followed by pain and rage and so much _hate_ it was like being burned from the inside out. As though poison had been injected into his veins and he could feel it spreading through his body until his limbs weakened and each breath was a struggle.

He stood paralyzed as the couple began to move forward, as Jane's eyes slid from the man at her side and turned all that shrewd intensity onto him. He feared what she might see beneath his broken composure. He feared what he might do, how he might react, when confronted with the man Jane had chosen over him; he was lost, adrift. Then, for the second time in less than an hour, light burst behind his eyes and the rigorous self-control that was his pride and his salvation snapped back into place and he was Dr. Donald Blake, MD once again; ready with a smile to greet his patients.

Only now, with the rampant jealousy in check, he was able to observe his… _replacement_ with a more clinical eye.

"Donald, this is… um… Kain, my… inamorato," _Patient is a well-nourished, well-developed_ _Caucasian male in his late twenties to early thirties. Roughly six-three, blond and blue_. _Athletic build_. Pet names, he thought sourly, how cute. Inamorato meant 'a man who loves or is loved' or 'a man with whom one is in love'. And to make absolutely certain that he knew where he stood in her eyes, she added; "Kain, this is Donald Blake, my ex."

Her ex, was all he was now? Ex housemate, boyfriend, lover… fiancée. Despair swelled through his chest, but did not break through his voice as he offered his hand and said, "_Doctor_ Blake. It's nice to meet you, Kain…"

"Saether." Donald managed not to grimace as the hand was accepted and shaken firmly. _Patients grip is firm, skin is cool and dry. _There was something weird about the way this _Kain_ moved, though he couldn't exactly put his finger on what it was. "I am always pleased to meet Jane's acquaintances, and I have heard much about you these last few days."

"Yes, I've been hearing a lot about you as well. I understand you've been away on… family business, I believe it was?"

"Family business," He repeated, covering Jane's hand where it rested on his bicep and looking down at her with an expression that Donald did not understand, "Indeed, that _would_ be an accurate assessment of affairs."

"Th-aiee-_I_ have groceries in the car, um,_ Kain_, so we should probably get going." Jane murmured, running her free hand up and down his arm. "So, Donald… ah… bye."

"As you wish, _min Elskede_." Kain replied easily, allowing Jane's hand to slip from his arm and then following her toward the driver's door, motioning Donald to follow him as he said, "Forgive us our abrupt departure, we would tarry here longer did circumstances allow."

"Of course," the doctor replied tightly, "I understand. I have to get going myself. Early shift at the hospital tomorrow."

The giant didn't make any acknowledgement as he reached Jane's door and opened it for her. There was some kind of exchange between them then; laughter and a short half-murmured conversation as Saether reached in to lift something from the floorboards before helping Jane into the cab with one large hand at her elbow. He moved too smoothly. _That _ was what had seemed so out of place before; Saether's motions were too smooth. Though clearly an athletic man, there was an ease and grace to his mobility that just wasn't normal, even to trained athletes. Watching him now, Donald couldn't help but feel as though there were something… inhuman about him. It was in his eyes, too, there was something wrong with his eyes.

Caught up in that realization he was startled by the sound of the door snapping shut, and came to himself just as Saether turned and, resting a palm flat against the window, extended his right hand. "This has been an auspicious meeting, _Doctor_ Blake. I am most pleased by the opportunity to meet you." Reluctantly (and only because breeding and manners demanded it) did Donald accept the offered appendage; which almost instantly tightened firmly around his own. Before the physician could offer the standard reply, Saether added: "I had been prepared to seek you out myself. Fortune has well favored me this day."

He knew something was very wrong. Not by the blond behemoth's infuriatingly pleasant tone or his vaguely threatening words. It was something baser than that; an innate survival instinct shared by all prey-type-animals. Or, possibly, it was the fact that while Kain Saether's grasp was not painful, it was proving impossible to break. No matter how Donald pulled or twisted, the man did not move. He didn't even bat an eye and, eerily enough, it almost seemed as though he didn't notice Blake's efforts to free himself. Not a man that believed in the spiritual, supernatural or extraterrestrial world; the good doctor was left to stare uncertainly at the form holding him captive and say "What… _are _you?"

Because he knew, on some incomprehensible level, that those were not human eyes staring back at him.

"More than you may comprehend. No, I have dreamed too often of causing you harm, do not tempt me to do so by speaking further." The accent seemed thicker now, the voice deeper and held a note of something that sent a cold shiver down Donald's spine. "For months now I have heard of your conduct regarding Jane; how you have unceasingly forced your attentions on her, knowing they were unwanted, laying in wait for her at her home, her place of work, with no regard for her wishes."

"I was just-"

"So _also_ have I been informed how you treat Darcy Lewis, whom I hold in great esteem, with disrespect and hostility."

"But I was only— Jane and I were _engaged_ and… and with Darcy it's just-"

"You will be _silent_!" The baritone voice cracked out like a whip; uncompromising in the command for obedience and unspoken promises of retribution. "That you and Jane were once betrothed does _not_ give you absolution to impose your will upon her. As to Darcy, no excuse you could give would acquit you your actions against her, and I will not tolerate for one under _my _protection to be treated as an object of scorn." Saether paused then, surveying his entrapped prey with open disgust before adding, almost grudgingly "Were your mortal body not so fragile I would deal with you more harshly. However, I find that it would be… dishonorable to vent my wrath on a creature so much weaker than myself."

"_Creature—" _Donald sputtered in indignation, but was cut off as the behemoth continued over him.

"Exile is more than you deserve but, I believe, adequate enough. By sunset you will leave this province, and you will not return."

"I'll _what_?" he balked "Who the hell do you think you are? You have no authority to—" the words broke off in a cry of pain as Saether's grip tightened unexpectedly; the pressure of it building so rapidly that the doctor was positive the man, or whatever he was, intended to crush his hand then and there. Just before fissures began to form in his bones, however, the pressure suddenly eased. Donald ground his teeth together, clawing with all his might at the pale, unremarkable-looking hand that still grasped his. He had never considered himself an incapable man before but, in comparison to the great strength of the… monster in front of him he was nothing. Absolutely nothing. The thought was terrifying.

"I am in deadly earnest, little man. Should I lay eyes upon you again or learn that you have dared to impose so much as a finger on Jane—or Darcy— even once more, know that I _will _ hunt you to the ends of the earth and I will _shatter_ every bone in your pathetic little body. On my father's life, I swear it."

* * *

><p>Neither remarked upon the incident during the drive home; Jane did not question why Thor had placed Mjolnir in her lap and held the van door closed, and he did not question the conversation he had overheard. Both chose not to point out how pale and shaken the physician had looked as they left. The silence was not uncomfortable, however. It was peaceful, companionable. Thor's hand would stray often to the back of Jane's neck; as though to reassure both of them that they were indeed together again.<p>

And this time, Thor determined, the only thing that would pry him from her side would be for the gates of _Niflheim_ to open up at his feet.

The matter was far from their minds as the pair carried in the multitude of brown paper sacks into the house. Laughter and light banter flowed out from the kitchen as the Asgardian prince tried to reacquaint himself with the human contraptions or 'appliances' as Jane called them, which he had been so briefly met years before. With great amusement in her voice, Jane insisted that he would manage to blow up the microwave within the week, and proceeded to place the 'fire extinguisher' on the counter within easy reach. He had no idea how it worked.

They explored the house next. With Jane trailing along behind to answer the outpouring of questions Thor discovered the TV den that lay through an archway in the family room, the laundry room just off the kitchen and the yet-to-be-used dining room. Jane preferred the smaller table in the kitchen nook when she had time to sit for a meal, or the table outside. The second floor held more wonder; he was fascinated by Jane's in-home office with its floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and the cluttered desk in the corner. There was a heavy, leather armchair by the terrace window that would be comfortable for his use should he wish to sit with her as she worked.

The smaller guest room held no interest for the prince, but the larger one was significant for the fact that it was the room that Darcy preferred when staying overnight. As that was a frequent occurrence, Jane had encouraged the girl to personalize it as she wished. To that end, Thor was pleased to see that Darcy had done so; there were photographs attached to the dresser's mirror, a scattering of jewelry across its surface and a scarf trailing from where it had been tossed onto a nearby chair.

"Darcy isn't really close with her family, so I usually invite her to stay with me when she's on break. It's a lot more comfortable now than when I was in the trailer and she had to sleep on a cot in the lab." She had faltered then, as though a thought had just occurred to her, "I hope you don't mind if she stays with us—"

"I would be glad of it. Such things are common in Asgard; Sif and the warriors three all reside within my hall. Our repast was taken together and the evenings spent in camaraderie."

"So having Darcy, Erik and maybe an Avenger or two around the house would be good with you?"

"It would" he assured, with absolute sincerity. With the possibility of an unknown magician, it would very much be his preference to keep both Darcy and Jane close to hand as much as he could.

They made supper together that night. Or, more accurately, Jane made supper and Thor did his best to distract her into burning it. He would steal bits of stir-fry out of the pan with bare fingers, or encircle her waist with his arms and press his long body to hers, kissing the top of her head or the side of her neck. When he wasn't distracting her, he was prowling around the kitchen poking into cupboards and asking questions about this thing or that. They continued to avoid touching on the more serious topics, not just the events of the afternoon but what had transpired during his 'campout' and why it had ended early.

An hour before sunset, a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent appeared at the door. Jane recognized him as one of her guardsmen, though she couldn't recall his name off the top of her head. He and Thor spoke outside very briefly, in low tones that made it impossible for the curious astrophysicist to overhear before the suit-clad young man left as unobtrusively as he had come. It was right about then that Jane realized how her outbuildings would finally be clear and she might actually begin to seriously consider the idea she'd had for them a few weeks ago. When Thor returned he wore a distinctly satisfied expression and a little strut to his step that had Jane laughing; he made her think of the winning tomcat after an alley fight.

Thor didn't find the comparison terribly flattering, but had to feign insult around a growing smirk as he said, "What of the lady cat after the fight, my Jane? Does the winner _take_ all?" With that he took his smirking self upstairs, leaving a blushing Jane to wonder if she had ever been turned on by a cat analogy before.

While the human put the finishing touches on the meal, the Asgardian was up to something. She could hear his footsteps going up and down the stairs, and the faint clatter of the back door screen. Twice she called to him, asking if he was looking for something specific, and twice he answered in the negative. The prince, looking even more pleased with himself than before, appeared just as she was taking a bottle of wine down from the cupboard and wordlessly took up the two stoneware plates in one hand and the two glasses in the other. He was grinning now, which was Jane's only clue that he had done something other than re-explore the house with his time.

"Hold on, Thor, I want to grab a jacket."

"I have seen to it," He replied, with a grin that fairly stopped her heart, "Come, our meal will grow cold."

When human an alien stepped outside onto a porch alight with flickering firelight, Jane realized that he had seen to a great deal more than just her jacket. Blazing cheerfully on the tabletop, porch railing and down the wide wooden patio steps were about eighteen candle lanterns; old fashioned brass-and-glass lamps that had belonged to her mother. Her father had sent them shortly after she had called to give him her new address; a surprising gesture considering he tended to hoard her mother's belongings and only reluctantly doled them out. At the time they had arrived, Jane had been so focused on the Portal that she had been unable to set aside enough focus to unpack and arrange the collection that had been a focal point of many of her childhood memories.

Darcy was undoubtedly involved in this somehow.

Beyond the patio, the chairs that encircled the currently lit fireplace had been cleared away to make room for a blanket nest surrounded by pillows. As she came closer, Jane could recognize the shape of the chair cushions beneath the pile of spare blankets. Her favorite sweatshirt and the green fleece throw form the end of their bed were both folded neatly at one end of the little arena.

"You did all of this? You were gone for, what, fifteen minutes?"

"Darcy was… enthusiastic in her suggestions."

"How… _when_?"

"When I was informed that you had spent the day in the village I bade one of the agents assigned to guard our home in our absence for aid in working the communication device issued me. Does it please you?"

"Yeah… it really does." Delighted beyond words, Jane toed off her shoes and settled into the next without another word. Thor followed suit and they balanced plates on knees and glasses on the stone lip of the pit. The wine was weak to an Asgardian palate, but not unpleasant in flavor. The meal was satisfying as much for the fact that Jane had made it as for the vibrant variety in tastes. They spoke little at first; with Thor admiring Jane and Jane altering between casting almost shy glances at Thor and admiring the lovely atmosphere he had created.

When the plates were scraped clean and the glasses refilled and set aside, the couple reclined against the scattering of cushions. Jane's head pillowed on his shoulder, her warm body tucked snugly to his own. He had caught one of her hands and was idly exploring it; learning its contours, the fragile webs between her small fingers, and the small white scar on her middle knuckle. A fight, she explained, with an older cousin when she had been a child.

Far above them the heavens were heavy with stars and he was reminded of another night, long ago, when they two had lain side by side beneath the open sky. It hadn't been quite this pleasant, however. More like sweet torture. Having her so close, small brushes of her skin to his when their hands would meet over her little book, the scent of her hair when she would lean close, that lovely smile shining for him and him alone. Wanting her as he did, knowing that she wanted him in return. Ah, but the timing had not been right, not then. Not when she had done so much for him and he so little in return.

Long had he considered the heart to be the most treacherous of organs; ever ready to betray, to deceive. And love? Love, if it existed beyond the old tales, was child's game. It made strong men weak, vulnerable. He was Thor, son of Odin, future king of Asgard the greatest of all the Realms; he would not tolerate such weaknesses in himself. He'd had little thought for the women who vied for a place in his bed. They were there for his pleasure and while he had enough respect for the female sex in general to treat them well, he little thought of them outside his chambers. Indeed only one, in all his long life, had ever interested him longer than a few nights.

And then there was Jane.

Jane who, from the moment he had opened his eyes to find her staring back at him, had been set apart from all the women he had ever known.

Through her compassion, courage and intellect, this young human woman had done something that all, even he, had thought impossible; she had returned his stone heart to flesh and blood. Not with seduction, though he had burned for her. Not through magic, for she had none. It was just her. The woman who had risked retribution for herself and her small family in order to free him from imprisonment by S.H.I.E.L.D., though he was no more than a stranger to her. Though she had been almost certain he was mad. The woman who had stayed by his side, despite the oncoming danger, to aid in the evacuation of people she barely knew and surely had little care for.

The one who had knelt by his side as he lay dying; seeking to sooth, to reassure, to encourage even though she must have known his injuries were fatal. That he was fading.

This woman, this feisty little human, was his redemption. She was his second self, most assuredly his better half. No one and nothing was more important to him than she, and he would give her anything and everything. He would give up anything and everything for her. With Jane Foster, it was all or it was nothing.

And he would give her all.

He turned in to her slowly and kissed the top of her head, her brow, curling his fingers beneath her chin to tilt her mouth to his and take her lips softly, chastely. He could feel her heartbeat against his breast, the quickening of her breath, her lithe hands fisted into the fabric over his chest. "Am I too forward?" he murmured against her soft lips, and felt her smile.

"I wouldn't mind," she breathed, "if you were a little more forward." She was trembling, just a little, and when he ran his hand down her side to her knee and pulled her leg over his hip he felt a shudder, like a current, pass through her. Her eyes were dark with passion, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted in irresistible invitation. This time the kiss was not chaste; it was hungry and desperate such as their first had been. Indeed, the flames that danced at their feet were nothing in comparison to the fire that ignited between them. Lips and tongues met and danced again and again as the pair clung to one another.

The hand whose immense strength had terrorized an unfortunate rival mere hours before was now the definition of gentle as it sampled the tantalizingly soft skin of Jane's back. His senses were filled with her; the scent and feel of her skin, the delicious little sounds she made. His eyes, when he pulled back, saw only her. "Is it too much, _min elskede?_" he asked, and bent to tease her neck and shoulder.

At her word, at the slightest flicker of fear in her eyes, and Thor would release her without asperity. He adored this woman and her ease was not merely important to him; it was _everything _to him. If Jane feared their union, even more a moment, then he did not yet deserve to be her lover. If she were simply not yet ready to cross that boundary, he would respect her decision. But there was no fear in her. Instead she smiled softly, sliding her hands over his chest, tracing fingers against his jaw as she said breathily "I _still _don't know what that means."

He grinned back at her, shook his head. Trust a woman to focus on the most insignificant portion of a sentence. Or the most significant at the least opportune time, as it were. "You do not know?" He asked, pushing strands of hair away from his face, tried to control his breathing and think past the fierce desire clouding his mind. He had expected her clever mind would have deduced the translation already, but he saw uncertainty in her eyes. Ah, he understood, that was the problem. She thought she knew, perhaps suspected, yet did not trust her assessment enough to voice it aloud. And also, perhaps, too unfamiliar with the sentiment to fully recognize it.

Which only made them all the more suited to one another; Fandral had fairly needed to beat the realization into him and his courtyard had suffered greatly for his ignorance.

"I know you came back for me, because you promised but— never mind, it's not really important. You don't have to—"

"_Min Elskede_, in the language that my people taught to yours, to the ancestors of our Erik Selvig, means My Love." He palmed her cheek, kept her eyes on his and hoped that she could see the depth of feeling in his eyes. Hoped that she saw and understood that it was no simple endearment but barren truth; and as vulnerable as it truly made him, so too did it fill him with strength. Her eyes widened and, yes, she saw it. She knew. And he saw it in her as well, felt it in her touch and knew that he had her heart.

And then she pulled him to her again and attacked his mouth with an intensity that nearly equaled his own, and guided him with impatient tugs at his shirt to shift his body atop hers. Her legs cradled him as they had that afternoon, her arms encircled; clever hands sliding beneath the thin fabric over his torso to caress and explore his back and flanks. The fires of passion between them arced and raced; currents of energy that coursed between the two of them. Thor turned his face into the tender skin of her throat; nipping gently and nuzzling in. She could not hurt him, but the feel of her nails scraping down his back had him arching, growling. Sent tongues of heat shooting down his body and had him slamming his mouth to hers; had him nipping not so gently at her swollen lips.

It had been his intention to take her slowly, cautiously this first time but the little human wench was making it impossible for him to _think_. Not since his first visits to the concubine houses as an adolescent had he been so overcome. Her mouth was at his neck now, tongue dipping into the hollow of his throat and boldly trailing up. When those curious hands pulled at the hem of his shirt he quickly pushed himself to his knees and dragged the offending thing over his head.

He enjoyed the desire that clouded her eyes as she beheld him. Leaning forward he braced his hands on either side of her head, held himself over her. "I am yours, Jane Foster. I belong to you from now until the stars fall from the heavens and the branches of Yggdrasil wither and die. So also do you belong to me: deal?"

"Deal."

Galaxies away in a hazy world of azure waters and golden spires; a lone figure stood on the jagged edge of a broken bridge. Though Heimdall had averted his eyes from Midgard, his ears yet rang with the Prince's vow, and an approving smirk lit about his normally solemn visage.

It was about damn time.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Comments<strong>:

**Update: **This chapter has been edited by lcsaf. Hip hip hooray for better grammar and the removal of embarrassing typos.

As per the usual, I try hard to catch all the typos/grammatical issues but they always slip through the cracks. Especially after the third pass, so please let me know if you catch any so I can correct it.

Big thank you to my translators for their work and patience.

So you can say that this chapter fits comfortably in the T rating that the story has been in since chapter 1. However, I bumped it up to M anyway for two reasons: One; because I never know what is going to go on chapter-to-chapter. I have my outline and the general flow of the story, but some of the details get filled in as I go. So while this was pretty mild, next time might be more intense. Two: Not really sure just what the line is. The ratings guide isn't terribly helpful so it's a lot of guesswork.

So if and when I decide to write out Jane's first night, or any subsequent smutty scenes, I will not be able to post them there, not the way I want to write them, without risking the webmasters wrath. I know I've talked about this before but it bears repeating because it's annoying.

So while I will continue to post Terrestrial Constellations on , I will post the very smutty bits on a smut-friendly fiction site I have not chosen yet. I've had several good recommendations and I will be looking into it shortly (and because I cannot procrastinate anymore). That being said, when I get that sorted I'll post a notice about in _on my profile_. I'll also note which chapters contain extended scenes.


	13. Crossroads

**Chapter 13: **Crossroads

* * *

><p>Special Agent Phillip Coulson sat back in his chair and rubbed a hand over his eyes. The typically equanimous man was haggard; his face held a layer of scraggly light brown stubble that was wont to call itself a beard, his suit was rumpled, his neck visibly stiff from sleeping at his desk for the second night in a row. This disheveled state, however, appeared unimportant to the man himself whose eyes, clear and flat, contemplated the contents of a legal pad scribbled liberally with his own fiercely neat handwriting.<p>

There were dates first; beginning with the night that Thor was exiled to earth, along with the two separate locations where the man and his hammer had landed. The list of events continued to Thor's departure, Jane Foster's employ by Stark and the day they broke ground on the foundation for the base. Every event was included in the makeshift timeline; from the day he had first spoken to the contractors down through every meeting and status report thereafter.

The big things were easy to pin on their mysterious enemy. After all these bigger, flashier tricks were _meant_ to be noticed by and felt by the entire base in some way. The spoiled food and explosion were two examples of such large-scale pranks. They were fewer totaling only six in all. Or more accurately, there were six since the base had begun working at full capacity, but there had been an incident during construction. A backhoe had gone suddenly, mysteriously haywire. It's mechanical arm swinging wildly, heedless of the hands at the controls and, according to witnesses, with a speed and fluidity that was unnatural to that particular machine.

It had destroyed a truck and scattered several dozen pounds of cement before it had been disabled. No one had been hurt, fortunately, but construction had been delayed while an investigation had been conducted and supplies and equipment replaced. The end report listed bad wiring and a short in the system as the only possible cause. That might have been the case, Coulson thought, but it had been designed, crafted, set up and executed flawlessly with no witnesses.

But to what purpose? That the question that kept circling in Coulson's mind.

Inconvenience, expense… blood? Fame or drama, well what could be more dramatic than a localized explosion not thirty seconds after the portal opened fully and Asgard actually _seen_. That the door to the control room had blown open that way, Coulson suspected, was very possibly calculated. His initial thought had been that the prankster or, indeed, pranksters had either miscalculated the force of the explosives, the strength of the door or Jane's proximity to such. It looked unintentional, and he might otherwise have dismissed it as such except for the other incidents; the ones which were very much target specific.

These were subtle, quiet tricks; small seeming inconveniences with heavier, carefully or not-so-carefully hidden meanings beneath. These were not insignificant events, though he had done what was necessary to make them seem so and keep the gossip and fear to a minimum and the targets largely unaware. The truth was hard for he and his agents to miss, though, what with Jane—Ms. Foster and Ms. Lewis' keycodes being changed to very personal and… _vulgar_ insults, well, there was a pattern wasn't there. To say nothing of the things that had been done to Mr. Akado, Jane's hopeful protégé. Even Coulson himself had been hit a few times.

He sighed, rubbed a hand over his brow. Thor's theory just complicated things. If he was looking for a rogue agent, wayward scientist or regretfully stupid hacker he would know precisely how to handle the situation… but _magic_? What the hell was he supposed to do with that? How did he protect his people from something he couldn't recognize and didn't understand?

His hand reached out almost of its own accord, took up a battered children's book from the desk corner and flipped it opened unerringly to the juvenile drawing of a dark-haired man in greenish armor. Loki, Thor's brother, second son of Odin. Personally, Coulson never counted someone as dead until he had an autopsied corpse in front of him; with DNA tests, prints, or dentals matched to confirm identity, whether or not the body was recognizable. The Captain was a superman, to be sure, but he was still human and he had survived frozen in ice for nearly a century. Loki was surely, if Thor was any base, a great deal sturdier than any superhuman, and with no small amount of magic thrown into the mix.

What other possibility was there? Loki was the only non-human they knew by name that had tried to murder Thor and cause a lot of destruction and mayhem in the process. Who else would have cause to lever such crude insults at the only two human females that Thor cared about?

And yet he was thoroughly and undeniably dead, according to his brother. The agent had to admit that, despite his naturally suspicious nature, falling off the edge of the world did seem pretty permanent death-wise. While they were superior physically, Thor had indicated that their needs were basically the same as a human's: Food, water, air. Remove any one of these and an Asgardian would eventually die, it just might take longer. It seemed pretty impossible, then, for Loki to be responsible for the events around the base, which left Coulson's suspect list at zero.

Or, he mused, it hadn't been Loki _directly_. His rudimentary profile of the man (which was flawed due to being based singularly on Thor's perception of his brother and events) was that Odin's adopted son had been cowardly, arrogant and cunning, with a penchant for the dramatic and a pathological need for attention. He was able to move silent and unseen, not appearing on the footage of Thor's brief interrogation after the attempt to recover Mjolnir.

At which time he had tried to break his brother's spirit by telling him that their father had died as a result of Thor's actions and that their mother had disowned him. Insurance, it read to Coulson, to make sure that the rightful heir did not attempt to take the throne while he secured his position in the eyes of the people and his parents by rescuing Odin from an assassination attempt. That hadn't been enough, however. He'd had to send the Destroyer to kill Thor, even knowing that he was mortal and powerless. So what if he had gone a step further? What if he had set up some sort of contingency plan that first visit, a spy or a patsy?

Unless there was some other wizard, or whatever they were called on Asgard, that had a vendetta against the Asgardian prince and those close to him.

It had been his intention to discuss his theories with Thor after his return from the training mission, but that hadn't happened. The alien had been restless and edgy when he'd return, anxious to get home to his girl. Who could blame him? Coulson had thought it best to send him on his way. In a day or two he'd venture out and see what information might be offered. The Prankster was unlikely to make another move so soon after this last one, not with Jane and Darcy off base for the next few weeks. Unless he or she suddenly decided to take his sense of humor outside the gates, they had time to investigate and prepare.

On the up-shot, he had one less worry on his plate now, and that was satisfying. If anyone ever asked (anyone but the commander) he'd claim the fact that the invulnerable prince of a neighboring… realm had cleaned up and set out to reunite with his girlfriend coincided with the time that the good Dr. Blake was still in-town was _pure _coincident and fortunate timing for one addled Ms. Foster. Never mind that he had eyes on Blake at all times and could have taken steps to prevent such a meeting. Which reminded him, Ms. Lewis needed some hand-to-hand instruction. That punch had done more damage to her fist than to Blake's face. He'd mention it to Natasha when her mission was over.

It was a sensible precaution, given the company she kept, though it was unlikely she'd have an opportunity to confront the doctor again. Amused, the agent pulled the report out from beneath the legal pad and looked through it again. He ought to be grateful that Thor had not jumped straight to breaking every bone in Blake's body, especially in so public a location. The clean up would have been unpleasant. Still, he couldn't help but feeling a little disappointed. It was more mercy than Blake deserved, personal opinion, and rather more leniency than Coulson would have showed had their positions been reversed. At the very least, the wannabe Don Juan had walked away rightfully scared for his life.

Agents had reported him leaving Puente Antiguo within the hour, and Phil very much doubted he would return. Not that he was taking chances; a surveillance team would keep tabs on him for a little while, just as he would retain guards on Ms. Lewis until she returned to town after finals, but it was mostly formality. The threat, if indeed it had been one, was neutralized. Hopefully when the good doctor had a psychotic break, as Coulson believed was forthcoming, it would be a quiet suicide in the privacy of his pricy villa.

Not his problem now.

A light tap shortly preceded the lanky figure of Agent Deryn who, with his usual disregard for rank, plunked himself in the chair opposite the desk with all the grace and stealth of a dead goose. "Agents Romanov and Barton have received their orders and departed as planned. Captain Rogers is on his way back to New York. Ironman left under his own power, no idea where he was heading but he said Foster could shoot him any updates about the portal, otherwise he'd be back when her vacation time was up. Lewis is at the campus library with her study group but it looks like they'll break for the night any minute, and we all know where the Foster and the alien are." To this he added a suggestive undulation of his eyebrows, which Coulson studiously ignored.

He didn't want to, but duty requited him to ask, "Blake?"

Amusement abruptly vanished from the younger agent's face as he said "Dr. Blake is hold up in his house, hasn't left the bedroom since he got in, and there hasn't been a sound in there since he called the hospital to request a leave of absence. Aforementioned hospital was very accommodating."

"Good. I want continued surveillance on him until otherwise instructed."

Deryn grunted, scratched the side of his face thoughtfully and said, "Y'know, this job, you meet a lot of different kinds; garden variety weirdos, freaks, weirdo freaks, sociopaths, psychopaths, guys that wear red and blue spandex and go swinging through Manhattan like a circus attraction. Takes all kinds, right? After a while you start to start to get a sense of the ones that are basically okay, more or less harmless to the populace at large, and the ones that will probably kill you in your sleep given half a chance, then eat you." He folded his hands, stared at something over Coulson's shoulder and continued almost as though talking to himself, "This guy? There's something wrong there, but I can't figure out what it is."

All too true, acknowledged Coulson silently, but he had had just about enough of Donald Blake for one day and frankly, at this point, he wouldn't bother wasting the man power and paperwork to deal with the son of a bitch. Oh, SHIELD would ensure Jane's safety if it were an issue, but if that man entered Puente Antiguo again Phil would happily deliver him into Thor's waiting hands. Threat eliminated, subject closed. "How's Regina these days?"

As though snapped out of a trance, or possibly into one, a wide grin spread over Deryn's face, "Ah, she's great. Had the interview with the children's hospital, ain't heard back from 'em yet but I think she's gonna get in. Can you believe it? My baby sister, seems like yesterday I was makin' her hold my hand while I walked her to school, now she's gonna work in a bigtime hospital takin' care of kids."

Coulson shook his head in wonderment at his colleague; nothing could distract Deryn in a firefight and damned if he wasn't a man you seriously didn't want to make an enemy of, but bring up his little sister and became like a proud, indulgent, slightly neurotic father. One who was armed to the teeth and could kill you with his bare hands fifty different ways. Screw with his sister and die, simple as that. Welcoming the distraction, Phil leaned back in chair and valiantly poked the contented lion, "Is she seeing anyone?"

"Whoa, hey—"the agent sat bolt up in his chair, "Who wants t' know? You hear somethin' I didn't? Someone asking about her? She's just a kid, she don't need to be datin' no one—"

Coulson restrained the urge to chuckle. That 'kid' was thirty years old.

* * *

><p>Jane awoke with her front bathed in warmth and her back bathed in cold. She lay on her side, pressed tight to Thor's chest with her back and right flank exposed to the hip. Her face was tucked beneath his chin and while one of her arms was folded comfortably between her breasts the other was trapped awkwardly between them. As it wasn't attached to her bad shoulder, she didn't feel the need to move it just yet. The fire had burned down, and she could just barely hear the occasional hiss and pop. She shifted just enough to eye the darkened sky and estimated that they couldn't have slept long, perhaps a little more than an hour. No, they hadn't slept very long at all.<p>

In spite of the odd position of her arm, Jane was comfortable and indescribably content as she lay and listened to the deep, even breathing of her lover. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and drift back into sleep if only so she could enjoy the thrill of waking up beside him again but it seemed like the growing discomfort in her abdomen was going to put those plans on hold. With a resigned sigh the woman of science attempted to extricate herself from the tangle of limbs and blankets, only to have the former lock around her shoulders with impenetrable strength and a sleepy voice grumble "Stay." sullenly into her hair.

Swallowing laughter Jane pushed lightly against his chest and replied, "I have to get up for a minute, Thor. I'll come right back." The only reply he made was a displeased sound, but his arm loosened enough for her to slip out from beneath and sit up. A short search of the immediate area revealed her panties, hanging saucily from the knob of one of the chairs, and Thor's shirt in a rumpled heap half on and half off the patio steps. She donned both articles, wondering mildly where her jeans had ended up, stepped quietly across the porch and passed through the screen door into the silent house.

Light from the kitchen spilled into the hallway, casting odd shadows across the walls. The open back door had long eradicated any lingering trace of meal-preparation in favor of the pleasant odors of wood smoke, cedar and lemon, but had the negative effect of leaving the house chilly. The limestone floor felt like ice against her bare feet as she made her way to the door tucked along the wall just under the broadest part of the stairs. She ducked inside and emerged a few minutes later relieved and with her hair tamed down.

Although eager to return to her lover's side, Jane padded over to the front door and touched the deadbolt. It was locked. She had known it would be, having heard Thor lock it when he'd returned from talking to the agent earlier and had been able to clearly _see_ the position of the bolt thanks to the kitchen light. Feeling an odd sense of something that wasn't quite anxiety, she peered out of the small square window inset into the heavy wood and looked down as much of the driveway as the light reached. Nothing unusual there, either. Of course it might be a bit superfluous to worry about home security when the back door had been left open all night while the residents asleep on the lawn.

Besides, there wasn't anything wrong. The house was still and quiet, no out-of-place sounds, nothing missing or moved since they'd stepped out… and yet that peculiar feeling persisted. Like the hair on the back of her neck should be standing on end but wasn't. The sensation was just almost enough to have her dart outside to rouse Thor, but she resisted. She was genuinely worried about becoming one of _those_ women that sent their man after every little bump in the night. It was just her overexcited, overtired brain playing tricks on her, with maybe some residual paranoia left over from years spent living alone.

Feeling silly, Jane leaned into the kitchen and ran her hand over the light switch, extinguishing the three rows of inset ceiling lights. From the far wall she could see the cheerful neon blue glow of the panel on the coffee pot declaring the time to be just past one in the morning. A short distance from that, in the deepest part of the corner counter, a bright red light flashed; the digital readout of the house phone inbuilt answering machine. It wasn't a number that very many knew. She had it mostly as her evening work phone when her cell was upstairs charging. Erik had it, of course, Darcy, Stark, Pepper, Couslon (and and any or all of his subordinates) and, despite her efforts to the contrary, her father.

Former Professor Allen P. Foster, a man who had very little respect for time differences and zero for the personal boundaries of his only child. Upon taking an early retirement from the university he'd taught at for over thirty years he had sold Jane's childhood home and had returned to his hometown of Drab, Pennsylvania. Drab was, in fact, the name of the town and _not_ Jane's opinion of the place she'd spent many summer vacations. In a nostalgic theme, her father had moved into the old farmhouse he had inherited from his parents and had begun to attempt to restore it from a sorry state of dilapidation (it ought to have been torn down ages ago, in the opinion of some) to habitable space. At least that's what she told the few family members, acquaintances and friends who bothered to ask.

The reality was that her father had retreated from the world. Unable or unwilling to recover from his wife's death, he had spent all of Jane's adolescence simply going through the motions of life. Teaching had engaged his mind and kept him more or less civilized but retirement and self-imposed isolation had turned him into something of a cranky old hermit. Being so far from everything was probably good for the general populace; he could be as cankerous and unpleasant as he wanted without Jane worrying about collateral damage and lawsuits, but it seemed like he grew worse each year that passed. These days the only person he welcomed into his presence, and at least attempted to be courteous to, was Erik. To talk to him today, even Jane had a difficult time remembering that he had once been an articulate and respected professor of sciences.

She hadn't seen him in years, not since before she'd moved out to New Mexico, and it was rare for them to speak to one another with any kind of regularity. When they did talk it was usually short and to the point. Lately though, the former professor had been contacting her more because he had been able to speak with Erik less, which was _obviously_ her fault somehow. Added to that, when Allen Foster wanted to talk to his daughter, he meant _now_ and without regard as to what said daughter might be doing. Since she hadn't had any messages when they'd come home, and she was officially on vacation for the next few weeks, he was the only one she could think that would call her house phone in the evening. Considering that she'd had her cell on silent all day, it was a wonder there were only three messages on the landline. He had probably filled her mobile and then went into a sulk when he hadn't been able to raise her at home.

And he wouldn't have the faintest idea about where she could be or what she could be doing. She'd never told him about Thor, not even that there was someone new in her life. That just wasn't something she would or could confide to her father about. For all that he had been a modern man of science, deep down he was an old prude. He'd all but disowned her when she had moved in with Donald, she could only imagine what he would say when he found out that her alien boyfriend had just moved in. To say nothing of the fact that they'd been outside in flagrante delicto the entire time he had been attempting to call.

Smirking now, because she so rarely had ammunition with which to render her father speechless, Jane drifted to the console and tapped the largest button and folded her arms on the counter top. The date and time of the first call; today at twelve-thirty-seven-a-m, had the smirk dropping from her face. That would be well past two in the morning where he lived, and as inconvenient as he was, he never called past ten p.m. his time, or before eight a.m. her time (he was at least that considerate). The voice that spilled out of the machine, a voice that most assuredly did _not _belong to her father, had her stumbling back against the island in shock.

"_Janie… it's— it's me."_ Donald's voice was low and almost eerily clam, but the cadence of his speech was odd, though she couldn't quite put her finger on why _"I know I should have called but I just… don't understand any of this. When you left I thought… I thought that you just needed a little more time before you'd be ready for a more serious commitment. Why couldn't you have given us one more chance? Was our life really so bad? You had everything you could possibly have needed or wanted, you didn't need to concern yourself with trivial tasks like cleaning or grocery shopping, and I was completely devoted to you. Why, why would you leave all of that to shack up with some backwoods, steroid-popping piece of—" _The machine clicked, cutting him off as the message time allotment ended and the next message began. Interestingly enough there was almost a fifteen minute span between recordings.

_"He's not right, Jane. That man, Saether, he's not… normal. I thought at first he might be a relative of Erik's, perhaps a nephew."_ The message began, and while this time his tone was even and normal, his voice had an agitated edge to it _"He was always trying to break us up, you know, he never thought I was good enough for you and I always suspected he wanted you to marry into his family and their accent is similar. Now… I'm not completely sure he's even human. I __know__ how that sounds, believe me, but the strength he demonstrated, the way he moves, it isn't… natural— and the way he threatened me, Jane, I think he really meant it. Maybe you wanted him to. Maybe you even asked him to. I just don't know" _He sighed then, the sound crackling out of the machine like static and the machine clicked off.

The third and final message was been recorded about five minutes later, and this time Donald's voice was utterly normal, for him at least. Calm and smooth and reasonable _"I've decided to go away for a while, a sabbatical. I think a change of scenery will be good for me, I haven't been out of state since we went to Boston. I think Paris would be nice for a little while, and I always found Italy to be very restful."_ He paused a moment and she could hear something rustling in the background but couldn't identify what it was, _"Jane… I don't know what you've become involved with, but you've made it very clear that you have made your decision regarding us… I only hope that you don't come to regret it. Goodbye, Jane."_

There was a barely audible click as the call disconnected and the machine informed her that there were no other messages. Silence descended heavily on the house again. Jane stared blankly ahead, that odd feeling, the one that had stared almost from the moment she'd stepped from the lavatory, was growing in urgency. It felt like she was being watched, like there were eyes following her every move and she almost expected Donald to leap out from behind the island counter and attack. Although comfortable and confident when she had risen from her next, she felt suddenly vulnerable in only panties and a T Shirt. Again she experienced a strong desire to shout for Thor, and again she swallowed it back.

Foolish to cry out when there was no apparent danger and her only source of distress was a recording, and not even a threatening one. Besides, if Thor knew that Donald had called he'd be furious. Even without his confession, it didn't take an astrophysicist to figure out what Thor's intention had been when he'd trapped her in her van with Mjolnir and held the door and window shut. After what he'd seen, and whatever information Tony had likely fed him, it was the natural course. As seriously as he took his word, Jane had little doubt that Thor was as willing as he was able to carry out whatever threats he had made to the letter. Not knowing exactly what was said, she couldn't way whether or not this was a transgression. On one hand, Donald didn't like taking orders… on the other; he was an expert at slithering through loopholes.

Of course she _could_ just erase the message. In fact, she _should _just erase the message. He wanted to piss Thor off, start a fight, drive a wedge between them. Cast a shadow over the night, something. It they just ignored it, wouldn't that be a more satisfying insult? Thor didn't need to know. One little tap of a button and no one ever need know—

But _she_ would know. She would know that she began what was rapidly looking to be the best relationship of her life with dishonesty and secrets. What had Thor done to earn that kind of mistrust? Just because Donald would have (in his own, tightly controlled way) flown into a jealous rage and picked a fight over an ex-boyfriend's voicemail did _not_ mean that Thor would react the same way. It wasn't just unfair to compare the two, it was ludicrous. Appalled, Jane withdrew the hand that was unconsciously inching toward the little red circle beneath the play button.

"Jane?" The sudden intrusion of sound sent her already fluttering heart straight into her throat and had her jumping like a startled cat and letting out an extremely undignified yelp. Whirling around, she was confronted with the unexpected sight of her paramour's broad form filling the archway. Light from the porch and her now well-adjusted night vision was enough that she could see his eyebrow quirk and his mouth stretch with fondness and humor at her reaction, but there was concern in his voice when he said "you've been gone some time, _Elskling_, are you well?"

Suddenly, nonsensically, Jane wanted to giggle. This wasn't really happening, was it? Thor wasn't really standing there naked to the waist, with only a thin brocaded throw wrapped low on his hips, hair tousled and muscles tense. He looked like something off the cover of those cheesy romance novels she and one of her cousins would sneak out from under her aunt's bed to snicker over when they were supposed to be asleep. Men like that were few and far between, and those that _did_ exist did not appear in the kitchen of Science nerd Jane Foster.

Two years ago, she recalled having a similar thought when he'd strutted out of her bathroom in a pair of too-tight jeans.

He'd chased away the cold then too, she remembered; thoughtfully throwing a jacket over her before the onset of a storm, pulling the sleeping bag over her shoulders on the roof. He looked at her now and that chill of apprehension was washed away in a tide of warmth. No longer did she feel exposed but sexy, desired and loved. So different from a moment ago that she wondered how a recording had affected her so much. But the memory of it sent a tremor up her spine and a chill to her belly. Quickly, and braced for an outburst of anger, she said "There was a voicemail on the house phone… from Donald. Well, three of them, actually but it was meant as one, I think. He… had a lot to say"

"You tremble." He murmured without a trace of the anger she still somewhat expected. Four long strides carried him across the room where he passed a hand over her hair and peered into her face intently, "From cold," He asked with concern, "Or from fear?"

"I—" She began, but realized that she didn't have an answer, "I have _no_ idea." Letting out a pensive breath Jane leaned against him, welcoming the comfort and closeness as she babbled "I got a weird feeling when I came inside, and then there was that message, and now I'm… something."

"Why did you not call for me?" He asked, rubbing a hand up and down her back. There was no accusation I his voice, just a request for information.

"I… I didn't want to wake you for nothing, I guess." She shifted in his arms, feeling sheepish and guilty "and I didn't want you to get the impression that I'm going to fall apart over every bump in the night." It was most of the truth. There was more to it, of course, which she didn't have words for… even to explain it to herself. Her insecurities, the newness of them together and, when she really looked at things, maybe a lot of her fears stemmed directly from past experiences she'd thought to have put aside.

Thor's hold tightened briefly before he pushed her gently back by her shoulders to peer seriously into her face "You are so precious to me, Jane. Please believe that I would rather scour our home a thousand times and find nothing than for you to come to harm because you felt you could not tell me you felt danger."

Well… when you put it like that." Now she really felt silly, and a little bit like she might cry.

"Do you still feel ill-at-ease?" He cupped her shoulders, thumbs rubbing lightly.

She had to consider her answer for longer than she liked, and found that she still couldn't really tip either way. She certainly felt a lot better now, but there was something still… hanging just out of reach. Like a flash of something in the corner of your eye that's gone as soon as you try to look. "A little, hardly at all, but… Thor?"

"Wait here." He replied, disappearing back into the hallway. She heard the screen door open and close, measured the sound of his not-quite silent footsteps moving methodically from room to room until he appeared once more in the kitchen, this time with Mjolnir in hand. "This floor is free of intruders. If you grant me a few moments patience I will check the rest of the house."

"I grant." Jane smiled, a little amused at the thought of some wayward burglar encountering an enraged, naked giant of a homeowner carrying a massive hammer. It was a case for scared-straight. And thinking of that, she found that this was a nice change from her former method of chasing down ghosts which consisted of stumbling around in the dark, in whatever she'd fallen asleep wearing, baseball bat clutched in her hands. She'd never encountered any house-breakers, but she had scared the hell out of Erik once when he'd turned up in the middle of the night for a surprise visit one winter break. She'd have been around fourteen at the time and, by then, well accustomed to looking after herself, the house and her steadily distant father.

Folding her arms, Jane leaned back against the counter, her eyes strayed to the telephone and she began to worry. So much was running through her mind; the incidents at the base, the way Mjolnir had started thrumming as they'd left, how Coulson still hadn't told her what they'd found afterward, and finally Donald's message and all the revolving conversations she'd had with him the last few months. It seemed like hours passed before Thor appeared again, looking grim and appealing as he strode through the room and set the hammer on the counter behind her.

"Nothing" She asked, though it wasn't much of a guess considering she hadn't heard shrieks of pure terror emanating from upstairs.

He shook his head solemnly, "I had hoped that perhaps Darcy had arrived in the night and would be resting in her chamber, but there is no one here but you and I." and it seemed like that answer made him more concerned instead of less.

"I told you it was nothing." She said, forcing amusement into her voice and poking him lightly in the chest.

"Perhaps." Was his ominous reply, and before she could even think to ask what he meant he was already speaking again, "You spoke of a missive, from your former suitor?"

"Oh… uh, yeah, he called a little past midnight." Thank goodness she'd been outside and unable to hear or answer when the phone had rang, she'd have assumed it was work or Darcy and probably wouldn't have even glanced at the caller id. Not, she admitted, that she would have been in any position to answer anyway.

"May I hear this message?"

* * *

><p>The house on the corner of Amber Court was not dissimilar to its brethren in appearance—save for some slight variation in paint and siding. The shiny silver mustang was tucked inside the tidy garage for the night and only one room, at the front right corner, showed the slightest glow of light. In the hours following the long drive home, Doctor Blake had done virtually nothing and had done so with vigor. He had put his belongings away, made a simple meal of a cold cut sandwich and a protean shake which were consumed at the dining table as he'd read that morning's paper cover to cover for the second time. He had gone over his schedule for the month day by day, sorted his mail, paid bills and showered.<p>

When all this was accomplished he retired to the master bedroom and in a sort of not-quite-aware daze he moved stiffly toward the dainty and feminine little vanity table in the corner and had sat on the pretty cloth-covered seat before it. The contents of the table were as Jane had left them in her abrupt departure; makeup still organized neatly in drawers, perfumes still lined up on the mirrored tray to one side, crystal vase with a single white rose.

And of course, _it_ still sat beneath the withered flower. With shaking hands he took up the black velvet casket, opened it to reveal a glitter of small diamonds inset on a silver band with one heart-shaped stone presiding o'er the rest. It had reminded him so much of her; how she outshone all others. Life had been so much easier when she'd been here. Her presence had so calmed the noise in his head that he had though, with time, she could eradicate it completely. Now, though, in just a few hours the noise had become so much worse. The voices were raising and raising in crescendo, demanding blood, demanding revenge, demanding that something precious from Kain Saether must be taken in recompense for what was taken from them.

Frightened he covered his ears, though that was no defense against the sounds within, and bent his head low over the desk whispering over and over "First, do no harm. First, do no harm. First, do no harm. _First, do no harm_!" He was a doctor, he healed people, he helped people. He saved lives!

Slowly, painfully, the noise in his head began to subside into a quite hum at the back of his mind. It was getting worse, he knew the signs— had prepared for them all his life with the fragile hope that maybe it might skip a generation. He could control it, he _would_ control it… but for how long? It had been so much easier when _she_ had been here. The attacks had been so much fewer it was like she was holding them back. He needed her here again, need to find a way to keep her with him or he'd go the way of his father. Weary and still chanting his mantra over and over as he tried to settle himself enough for sleep, Donald lifted his head and met his eyes in the mirror. As expected he looked tired and haggard except—

Except that his eyes were brown—not green.

With a cry he leapt from the seat, knocking it backwards with barely a sound onto the thick beige carpet. His reflection was just as it should be but, still, for the eyes which remained, no matter how he moved; a vibrant almost eerie green. Hallucinations—a part of the illness that came most commonly in the… well, in what he termed as the final stage. Fear clogged his throat; he was only in the first stage, possibly moving toward the second. Could he have possibly progressed so far in just one day? No— no he was tired, just tired. He needed sleep. Pills. He would take a sedative. He would—

Donald wheeled toward the door, heart in his throat and lurched forward only to freeze like a statue. His bedroom door was closed and a woman stood before it. A woman, he was certain, he had never seen before. She was very tall and shapely with flaring hips and generous breasts. Her hair was blond and fell in soft waves to her waist. Her eyes, to his immense relief, were not green but a very pale blue— nearly silver and her lips were painted deep red. She lifted one pale hand and he noticed that her nails were long, painted gold and filed to sharp points, and spoke one word in voice like the wind rustling through the trees.

"Sleep."

And Donald Blake knew no more.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Comments: <strong>

**Very important announcement **As of 4/07/14 all previous chapters of this story (1-12, for those of you who find themselves confused) have been upgraded by some superb editing by my Beta _**Lcsaf **_. Nothing terribly major, largely some punctuation and incomprehensible paragraphs/sentences, or doubled paragraphs. Anyway, all chapters have been edited and replaced with the new versions. Again: **no story alterations have been made**.

Huzzah! Chapter 13 done and the closing of what I consider "Part 1". Thor is back, The Rival has been dealt with. Loki is a-plottin'. Enjoy Coulson while you can because, well, Avengers.

I admit that I haven't watched Marvel's Agents of Shield partially because I like to let shows I'm interested get two seasons in before I watch, but I've been given an overall summery of the story so far via a friend who loves to give spoilers. I don't know if any elements of that will work their way into TC or if I'll just let sleeping agents lie. I also haven't seen Captain America 2 yet, but again I know the overall story (no spoilers here) and I haven't decided what, if any, of those story elements I'll incorporate. Same goes for Thor The Dark World. Loved it. LOVED it, but it definitely pushed Terrestrial Constellations into the "Alternate Universe" category, which is not uncommon when one starts a fanfiction before the sequels have come out. Rest assured this is no deterrent to me, I plan to charge ahead full steam without changing the plotline I've already established.

I'll probably just take whatever elements I like/are convenient for me from the aforementioned show/movies, shake them up a bit and disperse them however I please. Stuff to ponder over later, I suppose.

**all-in-the-past** and **immiD **are my lovely translators who haven't heard from me in a dog's age. I'm still alive, limping, but still alive and I still have your email addresses... hopefully those haven't changed.


End file.
